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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22962289">Put All Your Faults To Bed</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Draycarla/pseuds/Draycarla'>Draycarla</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Voltron: Legendary Defender</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blow Jobs, Bottom Keith (Voltron), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Torture, Keith (Voltron) Has Issues, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mutual Pining, Past Adam/Shiro (Voltron), Shiro (Voltron) Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Suicidal Thoughts, Top Shiro (Voltron), happy birthday shiro ily boy, the allurance is reaaaally minor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 13:01:12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>26,309</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22962289</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Draycarla/pseuds/Draycarla</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Keith has never been confident to talk and get his feelings across.<br/>Shiro always tries to avoid his problems and bury them.<br/>Caught up in their own personal faults and what ifs, it's only through time and growth that their personal strengths can grow, and one day they'll be able to say the things they always wanted to each other.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Allura/Lance (Voltron), Keith/Shiro (Voltron)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>70</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Shiro Birthday Exchange 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Glass Half-Empty</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/imagines/gifts">imagines</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I can finally post it! YES.</p><p>First of all, I LOVED the prompt for this, and I loved it so much, it's turned into a three chapter fic! I tried to work in as many of the requests as I could, but generally speaking this is looking and Keith and Shiro's mental states and how they relate to each other throughout vld. Season 8 has been completely ignored, hence the canon divergence tag. I really hope you enjoy, imagines, because honestly this has been an idea I've been desperate to explore, and I wanted to give it as much love as I could since mental health is a big passion of mine!</p><p>Keith and Shiro have a separate and singular POV chapter each that focuses on the effects after major incidents, although usually it's for things that canon never really explored. Some things are specific to just them, whereas others will be the same scene but seen from different perspectives to get the full view. The third chapter will be a mixture of both their povs.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="western">Keith leaned back against the hover bike, still warm from their race and heat from the desert sun. He sighed, casting his eyes over the sands below. He associated the desert with a bittersweet comfort; the fragmented memories of his father and childhood brought a slew of feelings that left his core boiling, as if trying to evaporate the maelstrom of his emotions he kept tightly inside. It'd been in the last year that he'd started making new memories; sweet as opposed to bitter. To his left, sat against his own hover bike, Shiro stared quietly upwards in that dreamy way he always did. There was a calmness and patience in Shiro that Keith found solace in, and a strange energy about him that kept Keith from sinking into the depths he found himself in during foster care. He could be back in juvie or shipped off to some other family, but the man to his side had offered him a chance at something better. It <em>was </em>better, because he was here, he understood Keith like no one else had ever tried to. He opened and closed his mouth, frowning as the wind and sand whipped through his hair.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Can I tell you something?”</p><p class="western">“Mhmm,” Shiro opened his eyes slowly, tilting his head to look at Keith as he casually rotated his right wrist, “you know you don't need to ask, Keith.”</p><p class="western">A small shiver along his spine at how Shiro said his name. He couldn't understand how Shiro made him feel like that.</p><p class="western">“It sounds stupid, and I don't want you to think I'm being selfish or anything,” Keith swallowed to wet his dry throat, frowning deeper at the ground, “I'm gonna miss you, even though I know you're coming back.”</p><p class="western">He kept his gaze firmly on the ground. What was wrong with him? This was <em>probably </em>a normal thing to feel so why was he like this?</p><p class="western">“You're not being stupid, Keith.” He looked to Shiro, watching the hand slowly come to rest on his shoulder, an earnest smile upon his lips. “I'll be gone for a while. Your feelings are valid, and I certainly wouldn't say you're being selfish.” Shiro paused for a few moments, mouth slightly agape. “You don't need to worry that you're acting like Adam. You're not treating me like that.” Shiro said each word cautiously, but offered one of his patented smiles; soft, calming. “Besides, I'm going to miss you too, miss my friends,” there was a playful twinkle in his eye, “even Iverson.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Keith couldn't conceal the snort. Shiro laughed heartily as he shuffled a little closer.</p><p class="western">“The thing I'll miss most will be kicking your ass in a flat race.” He rapped his knuckles against the bike's side with a devilish smirk.</p><p class="western">“Not like it's hard for you, mister golden-boy, ace-pilot. I'm gonna beat your records by the time you get back, and next time we race, you'll be eating <em>my</em> dust.” He always appreciated Shiro de-escalating the situation like this, he really did get Keith's struggles with voicing his emotions.</p><p class="western">“Do I detect some arrogance there?” Shiro's eyebrow arched upwards but the smirk never receded.</p><p class="western">“If you do, it's <em>your</em> fault!” He levelled his own back, which had Shiro snort, body jerking a little as he did. “We do spend a lotta time together.” Although Shiro laughed, something felt off.</p><p class="western">“Well, when you graduate you can put your money where your mouth is,” Shiro pushed his arms behind his head, head tilted as he looked down at Keith, “if I can, I'll see about raising the stakes. No hover bikes,” he pointed up, “the real thing. I'm sure I can find a way to race you in the skies.”</p><p class="western">“You'll have an unfair advantage!”</p><p class="western">“Just because I've got more experience doesn't mean I'm automatically better. You're a natural at this. So long as you remember-”</p><p class="western">“-patience yields focus-”</p><p class="western">“-that, yeah, you'll honestly be smashing it before I get home. You find the simulations easy, Keith, seriously,” and Shiro looked it, “you are an amazing pilot. It's a shame we're not the same age, because you'd have made an awesome flight partner or someone to have friendly competition with. I wonder what it would've felt like, having a rival.”</p><p class="western">Keith looked at him, mouth opening and closing in disbelief at the words that came from Shiro's lips. He looked – was – genuine about this. The only noise that came from Keith's mouth was a variety of stammered attempts at words, nothing coherent. How could he think that? Shiro was <em>legendary</em>, he wasn't close. He'd never compare – never.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Hey,” fingers found their way into Keith's hair, “ground control to cadet Keith. Can you read me?” Shiro tousled it with a soft laugh, Keith swatting pathetically with a chuckle.</p><p class="western">“I know compliments break you, and life has been unfairly tough,” Shiro let his hands rest in his lap, “but one day, I think you'll find yourself in a much better place, and you'll look back at yourself in a few years time and ask yourself: 'was that really what I was like?'” Keith took a moment to pause at Shiro's words. The way he spoke indicated something deeper, but like always, he never wanted to press into Shiro's private life unless he wanted to talk about it. It wasn't his place; what did he know about conditions or relationships to offer anything of use?</p><p class="western">“You honestly think so? I don't think it's likely.” This time Keith was the one arching an eyebrow. “I mean, someone has to have faith.”</p><p class="western">“Hey,” Shiro gently prodded his forehead, “listen to this old timer. I've got years of experience on you.” Keith felt his lips twitch as he looked into Shiro's bright eyes. Always empathising, always trying his best and being optimistic despite everything.</p><p class="western">“Ah yeah, I forgot you were born in the 'dial-up' era-”</p><p class="western">“I'm twenty-four, not <em>two-hundred and twenty-four!</em>” Shiro pouted, tousling Keith's hair again. Keith caught his wrist with a grin when he went to pull away, Shiro returning it.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">-</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Pilot error.</p><p class="western">They expected him to swallow that bullshit? Shiro? Making a fatal error like that? Liars. They were liars and bastards and what had he done? What had <em>he</em> done? The sand lashed against his face as he sped across the desert, heart hammering in his chest, adrenaline in his veins.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Pilot error.</p><p class="western">They weren't going to do anything – the Garrison betrayed Shiro and the Holts. Nothing could be done. He made the mistake of trying to steal a fighter. Why he didn't know. He couldn't stay grounded, couldn't accept it. Shiro was in the heavens, somewhere. He wasn't dead, he couldn't be, it was a lie. He wouldn't leave him, he promised to come back. Keith said he'd wait. Keith <em>would </em>wait.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Pilot error.</p><p class="western">What if it was true? Shiro had died, just like his dad and his mother, maybe, he didn't know about her, whoever she was. Why did everyone who meant something to him die? Why did life do this? Sure, his dad died a hero and he was <em>happy </em>he'd saved those people, but at the same time, it was his <em>dad</em>, and he was alone for what felt like forever. Until Shiro. The kind soul that took him in. He didn't treat him like a burden, but instead an equal. There was respect there. Undeserved, but there. Was it selfish, childish, he didn't want to be alone again? Keith didn't know.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Pilot error.</p><p class="western">He'd not been paying attention and it almost got himself killed. Keith just managed to keep himself and the bike along the rocky path underneath. Was it really that easy? Did Shiro have a lapse of judgement? Was it something to do with the condition he had? Maybe he should of stayed here-</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Error.</p><p class="western">No. No, Keith wasn't like that. Shiro <em>wanted </em>to go to space. It was his dream since forever. Sure he'd been up there plenty, but this was a huge mission and one that Commander Holt wanted him on explicitly. Commander Holt had mentioned that Shiro had saved him up there before. He was the best; the only guy for the job. It wasn't a pilot error, it was something else. Keith would get to the bottom of this, one way or another. It was the only thing he could do now he was no longer at the Garrison. He pulled to a stop, staring out across the sands below cast red in the dying light of the sun. He'd return to the shack where he used to live. He needed comfort and stability right now, before he made any more reckless decisions. He wouldn't disappoint Shiro. Keith would show him that even though it <em>looked </em>like he messed up, this was probably for the best. He'd rest, buy supplies, and start figuring out a plan.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Patience yields focus.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">-</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">The shack had never been this full of strangers, but Keith focused on Shiro to keep himself from yelling at the others to leave. They'd helped in their own way, and he couldn't afford them bringing the Garrison out here just to take Shiro all over again. They never cared about him – they strapped him down to a table of all things. A year. A year and he was alive, here, in Keith's home, in his bed. His throat was dry as he brushed brilliant white hair from his face.</p><p class="western">“What happened to you?” The whisper sounded choked as he let his eyes trace the length of the scar over his nose. He was scared to find out how Shiro got that, and the strange metal arm. The clothing was thin, made of a material he couldn't place. Keith couldn't allow him to wear that when he came to.</p><p class="western">“I'll be back in a few.” He'd go check his dad's old room. They were roughly, if he remembered right, about the same size. Keith checked over his body again, brows creased as he struggled between the burning anger and guilt of the unknown. Shiro was larger now, build-wise. It was like he'd been put on steroids or something.</p><p class="western">“I'll never let you suffer again. I promise.” He ducked out of the room, eyes prickling. He wouldn't cry; not here or now. He had to be here and strong for Shiro. It was fair. <em>Right</em>.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">-</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Shiro is in there.” Allura muttered darkly, stretching her arm out. “With Sendak.” She took a deep breath and exhaled. “Coran and I will finalise the Castleship for launch. We cannot afford to bring any more Galra here to Arus.”</p><p class="western">“Of course not, Princess.” Keith, stared at the door, then back to Allura. Was he okay? He probably needed medical attention.</p><p class="western">“I'm sorry for my sharpness. I just cannot believe that after all this time, Zarkon is still alive,” she motioned to the room, “how the Galra have expanded out so far.”</p><p class="western">“We have Voltron,” Keith offered, “we might not be the most experienced or the strongest, but we know now what the Galra can do. We're a team, no matter what.”</p><p class="western">She nodded slowly, brilliant eyes flicking to the side, the ground, then Keith. There was a ghost of a smile.</p><p class="western">“Thank you, Keith. We are a team.” She seemed to find herself as the confidence grew in her voice. “Coran and I may not be able to fly the Lions ourselves, but we will make sure you are all prepared and supported. You have my word.”</p><p class="western">He offered a curt nod as she carried herself with well-versed poise down the hallway.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">There was something off about the atmosphere when Keith entered the room. There was a fierce undercurrent of <em>something </em>he couldn't quantify, but what he could feel brought about a sudden sense of fear. It was in the way Shiro moved, how he held himself.</p><p class="western">“S-Shiro?”</p><p class="western">Wild eyes snapped to him. They blinked sharply, then again, until he seemed to come out of whatever trance he was in before.</p><p class="western">“Keith? I'm making sure he's secure. I'm certain he'll be waking up soon enough.” He motioned to the discarded prosthetic arm. “Without that he becomes a lot easier to deal with.” There was something about the words that insinuated something that Keith wasn't sure about. He wouldn't press.</p><p class="western">“Are you going to interrogate him?”</p><p class="western">There was a painful silence.</p><p class="western">“Yeah.” Shiro didn't meet his gaze as he checked some buttons Keith couldn't even read, and he doubted Shiro could either.</p><p class="western">“Do you need me here to help?” He knew he wouldn't be any help, but if Shiro was like this, what if he lost it? What if he did something he would regret? He promised he would never let Shiro suffer, yet he had; cuffed and tortured by <em>this </em>bastard.</p><p class="western">“Absolutely not.” Keith flinched at the sharpness, and Shiro likely realised too, pushing a hand through the white strands, looking at anything that wasn't him. “This isn't a job you need to worry yourself with.”</p><p class="western">“I'm going to support you no matter what.”</p><p class="western">“Not with this,” Shiro's face hardened, “we may be at war, but none of you need this on your conscious-”</p><p class="western">“So why do you?” Keith balled his fists at his sides, feeling his temper flare. Shiro didn't – shouldn't – take this all upon himself. He wasn't alone. “We're a team, Shiro.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Whatever was running through Shiro's head, he wasn't going to say anything by the looks of it.</p><p class="western">“I really appreciate you want to help, and we are a team, but this is something I need to do alone. I've done things – terrible things – or at least I'm certain I have.” He placed his hand on Keith's shoulder, taking a deep breath in. “I know I can carry that burden, but I won't allow <em>you –</em> or anyone else – to take on more then necessary. I don't even know what stuff would come up. I just,” Shiro moved away, voice wavering, “I need to do this alone. I'm sorry. Thank you, really, Keith.”</p><p class="western">Keith wanted to say they were all involved and stand his ground on the matter, but the fight wasn't worth it. It hurt to have this conversation because he could <em>see </em>how Shiro was trying to make it seem like there was control. Maybe it was Keith being here?</p><p class="western">“Okay, I'll leave you to it. Just...don't do something you'll regret, okay? You survived, you're here and that's what's important.” <em>To me, because I don't know how I'd react if you were ever dead</em>. Is what Keith wanted to add, but it wasn't the time or place.</p><p class="western">Shiro scrutinised him carefully.</p><p class="western">“What did I have to pay with to survive?” Keith watched the metal fingers twitch, heard the coldness. “I promise I won't torture him.”</p><p class="western">He wasn't sure if he believed Shiro.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">-</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Keith.”</p><p class="western">He turned.</p><p class="western">“Yeah?”</p><p class="western">“Thank you, for supporting me with Allura.” He spoke quietly, turning his head back towards the display, body returned to it's rigid position.</p><p class="western">“Well as I said, we shouldn't of doubted Ulaz. I'm sorry.”</p><p class="western">“You don't have anything to be sorry for,” Shiro didn't look at him as he spoke, “he was the first Galra to help us and that was new for the team.”</p><p class="western">“Just not for you?”</p><p class="western">Shiro let his arms fall to the sides as he turned to look at Keith properly.</p><p class="western">“If it wasn't for him, I'd probably be dead.”</p><p class="western">Keith couldn't help how sharply he breathed in.</p><p class="western">“I don't know if I'll ever get answers to what happened to me. Sometimes I wonder whether I really want to. Considering how I make you worry.” Shiro glared at the floor, the lack of light making his face look so much darker.</p><p class="western">“Whatever they did to you cut deep, but you're still here and fighting for what's right. I...think you're a lot stronger then what you're giving yourself credit for.” He wanted to tear all the pain and hurt from Shiro's mind; screw it all up into a ball and toss it into the trash. He couldn't, so all he could do was be supportive. It didn't feel like enough – it never felt like enough.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“You know if you want to talk, I'm here to listen.” Keith brought his head up as he heard footsteps. He found himself staring at Shiro's broad chest. He lifted it higher to find soft grey eyes; soothing, calming.</p><p class="western">“I know. I'm...sorry for being a burden. You shouldn't have to worry about me, I'll be fine,” Shiro brought his hands down on Keith's shoulders, giving them both a little squeeze, “I'll work through it in time – just ignore my misery. Are you okay? You've seemed quiet as well.”</p><p class="western">“I'm,” Keith blinked, “just worried about you, and sad about Ulaz.”</p><p class="western">“Let's not let his sacrifice be in vain. We'll honour his memory and what he did for us.”</p><p class="western">“Yeah.” Keith watched his face soften, lips twitching upwards for a second. Shiro let go, moving back towards the display.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“I'm gonna stay here for a while, but you should probably get some rest, okay? It's been a hard day.”</p><p class="western">“I think I might. Don't stay up late either.” Keith offered a small smile at Shiro as he turned towards the exit. Shiro nodded before turning away.</p><p class="western">“I'll try. Sleep well.”</p><p class="western">“Night.” Keith left with a a disquieted mind and emotions running in too many different directions. The sharpness in his voice; the way he looked and sounded since Ulaz sacrificed himself. For Shiro to trust someone Galra that quickly, Keith had to wonder what transpired between them outside of the escape. In a way, it made him feel a little better about himself and his own issues. If he was part Galra like he was starting to suspect, then maybe Shiro's trust would never waver. It wasn't something he could talk about until he had more answers, because he couldn't lose Shiro again. Never again.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">-</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Wait, so lemme get this straight,” Lance planted his hands on his hips, “mullet there is half alien. The same aliens who have been trying to murder us?”</p><p class="western">“It's not like I knew!” Keith snapped, fists balled so tight his nails dug through the material of his gloves. “This is just as much a surprise to me as you!” He glared at the ground. He hated this, hated having to tell them all. He didn't have a choice in the matter – what if they found out later? It'd look even worse.</p><p class="western">“Whoa, calm down there, don't want you going all evil-”</p><p class="western">“Lance!” Shiro barked. “They're not <em>all evil</em>. The Blade of Marmora have been fighting against Zarkon for thousands of years. You can't just go making sweeping generalisations!”</p><p class="western">Keith felt the hand on his shoulder loosen as Shiro moved in front of him. It felt like all the times back on Earth, when Shiro used to defend him. Today was the first time he'd really seen this return. Shiro would've let a potential alliance burn. For him. He went to fight someone twice his size to protect him. What had he done to protect Shiro? Sure, he had some of his questions answered, but what did it matter now when the team – this weird rag-tag group of people he cared for – had changed their tune on him after this? At least Shiro still supported him, just like always.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Look, I'm sorry. It was a joke. A...poor taste joke.” Lance muttered, sulking away with his hands stuffed in his pockets. “I'm sorry, mullet.”</p><p class="western">“<b>Lance.</b>” Shiro's tone was like ice.</p><p class="western">“I'm sorry, Keith.” Keith was about to answer, but then he caught Allura's eyes. They bored through him like he'd personally betrayed her.</p><p class="western">“I do not think I can trust you. You are Galra-”</p><p class="western">“Princess!” Shiro <em>snarled</em>. Keith watched the group double-take at the outburst. If he felt capable of feeling anything other then the crippling sense of impending isolation he was expecting to find himself in soon, maybe he'd flinch too. He buried himself internally in the protective cocoon of his interior. There was only one person here he'd let in unquestioning; the one who'd proved himself.</p><p class="western">“...if you can't trust Keith because he's half-Galra, then why did you trust me, a prisoner of the Galra for a <em>year</em>, not to just return the Black Lion to Zarkon? I come back with this,” he raised his prosthetic arm, “yet you never accused me of leading Zarkon to our locations, never accused me of letting Sendak in to the Castle. Never questioned <em>leaving me alone with him</em>. Just because I was their prisoner doesn't mean I have to hate ever Galra. I understand and empathise that they destroyed your home and took from you and Coran,” Shiro relaxed his body, face one of pleading, “but at one point your father and Zarkon were comrades, friends, Paladins. We escaped Zarkon the first time <em>because </em>of the Blade of Marmora. It's not all black and white, so much as it's easy to see it like that, but Keith had no part in this, he didn't even know until a few hours ago. How do you think he's doing, listening to us argue like this?”</p><p class="western">She stared at Shiro in disbelief. With a sniff and a haughty look, Allura stalked from the bridge.</p><p class="western">“I need time.” Were her parting words.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Keith stood close to Shiro as the others left the bridge one-by-one until they were left together.</p><p class="western">“You-”</p><p class="western">“I won't let them talk to you like that.” Keith saw the intensity in his face, the hurt in his eyes. “They know you. I know you. Do you want to talk?”</p><p class="western">Keith opened and closed his mouth.</p><p class="western">“I just...I think they're going to-”</p><p class="western">“Shall we go to Red? Your room? Not here, lets get you some privacy.” It didn't register that Shiro had taken his hand in his until he felt a sharp tug. His fingers were so warm, his grip firm. Keith swallowed the lump in his throat.</p><p class="western">“Thank you, you don't have to-”</p><p class="western">“I want to.” Shiro squeezed his hand tighter. Keith returned the action absently. “You don't deserve this.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">-</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Choked, ugly sobs tore from his chest. Keith curled into himself on the cold floor. Where was Shiro? What'd happened? Why did it feel like it was just him against everyone else, <em>again</em>, when it came to Shiro's unknown fate. The others were convinced he was dead, but Keith wouldn't believe it – <em>couldn't</em>. Shiro was out there, somewhere, and he would find him. It was probably the witch. She'd stolen him.</p><p class="western">“I-I,” he sniffed, digging his nails into his jacket, “I'll f-find you. I p-promise. S-Shiro.” He sucked in shaky breaths of air, holding himself tighter to keep himself grounded.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Why was he only capable of failing Shiro? He always needed his defence, always so desperate to hear his words of encouragement. He craved the soft moments when Shiro would hold him; just like before the weblum. When did Shiro become Keith's entire universe? He sobbed harder. Why was he so stupid? Was friendship always meant to be this painful? Did he really see Shiro as a friend, or did he just selfishly want his attentions and praise to feed his starved sense of self-worth? Was this why he was so desperate to have him back? Just to be the one to carry the weight and responsibility that the others, the Black Lion included, had brought down upon his shoulders.</p><p class="western">“I'm not ready. I'm not ready for this. <em>Please</em>. I'm not your Paladin.” Keith couldn't stop his body shaking, how he clenched his teeth together to stop the tears rolling down his cheeks. There was no answer. There was never an answer.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">-</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Keith!”</p><p class="western">He looked over his shoulder, eyes widening as Shiro came into the hangar. He'd ran here.</p><p class="western">“Shi-”</p><p class="western">Arms slipped around his shoulders as Shiro brought him in close, bringing Keith against his broad frame. This was different; confusing but comforting, even though they'd hugged not even twenty minutes ago.</p><p class="western">“Shiro?”</p><p class="western">“I feel stupid for saying this, because it's you, but be safe out there.” Shiro's breath was hot against his neck. It made the hairs along Keith's spine stand on end, and he found himself slipping his arms tighter around Shiro's body instinctually.</p><p class="western">“I promise I will be.”</p><p class="western">“I know, but,” he felt Shiro stiffen, then swallow, “promise me you'll stay alive.”</p><p class="western">After everything that Shiro had been through, this made sense. He hadn't said a lot about what had happened, just that he was happy he could catch up to them before he almost died. Keith had a suspicion it was bad, judging from the hand-shaped burn mark on his leg. Something had happened where self-cauterising the wound was the best way forward. Keith wasn't sure how he had the ability to keep going. From showering, he'd seen the body littered with deep scars effectively everywhere. He hesitated asking for the stories behind them.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Promise me you will too. I don't think I can take it again.” Keith muttered into his neck.</p><p class="western">“Keith,” the rawness in his voice caught him off-guard, “I'm back, I'm here. I can't expect you to keep saving me.”</p><p class="western">“I will, as many times as it takes-”</p><p class="western">“It's not your responsibility to protect me, it's me who should protect you because-” it was like he realised what he was saying, or about to say, as Shiro backed away. “I don't want you to hurt yourself over me. I'm just a guy-”</p><p class="western">“Who helped get me to where I am today. If it wasn't for you,” Keith looked at Shiro, really looked at him, “I don't know where I'd be. You saved me.”</p><p class="western">“Do you think we...”</p><p class="western">“Saved each other?”</p><p class="western">“Yeah.”</p><p class="western">Whatever hung between them was different now. There was something charged, but whatever it was, it made Keith wonder whether he should really leave. At the same time, the intensity was riling his own feelings, especially as he gazed into those eyes. So strange; so warm for such a cold colour, so unique to Shiro.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“I should leave, Kolivan will wonder where I've got to.” No, Keith had made his decision. He needed to find out more about himself. He needed the distance from the others. His place wasn't with the Paladins, and Shiro was back now. The rightful leader of Voltron; not him. He wasn't cut out for this, and never would be. He hated the idea of considering Shiro wrong, but he really was about his leadership abilities.</p><p class="western">“Y-Yeah, of course.” Shiro untangled himself from Keith, a wistful look about him that made Keith's chest constrict like a snake was suffocating the life from him. “Go, be great.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">-</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Keith grunted as Kolivan pulled him from the ground roughly.</p><p class="western">“You are distracted.”</p><p class="western">“Let's go again.” He raised the blade, swiping the blood from his mouth.</p><p class="western">“No.” Kolivan placed his hand on top of Keith's blade, pushing the pointed edge down. “We will talk about the distraction. I have noticed your concentration lapses prior and following contact with the others.” He tilted his head do the side. “Do you wish to return?”</p><p class="western">“They're my friends,” Keith glared off to the side, he needed to get stronger, not talk, “of course I think about them, miss them, that's natural.”</p><p class="western">“Your fixation upon Shiro is natural as well? Do not think it goes unnoticed, Keith.” Kolivan narrowed his eyes down at him.</p><p class="western">“I-I'm not <em>fixated!</em>”</p><p class="western">“Fixations for those we care deeply about is a typical Galran trait. It is not a criticism, although it becomes one when you cannot focus in battle.” Kolivan sheathed his blade to his hip, motioning Keith to follow. “You understand humans, but do not understand the other part of yourself. I want to help you – we all do – but being part of the Blade of Marmora requires transparency.”</p><p class="western">“So you want me to give you my life story, is that it?” Keith stopped in his tracks, stomach knotting tight.</p><p class="western">“If the information is pertinent enough, then yes-”</p><p class="western">“Fine. I never knew my mom,” he shrugged his shoulders, “I guess she's the Galran one. I don't know is she's dead or what. My dad died when I was a kid saving people from burning to death. I was tossed into foster care from family to family and a few homes. I was 'difficult', because I wasn't a cute little baby and came with baggage. I was a 'problem' so people gave up on me. I got into petty crime,” he snorted, “made mistakes and got arrested. Then this guy turns up at my school from the Garrison. He's all excited about space and wants us to be too. I impress him with my 'natural piloting skills', as he says, steal his car, and he offers me a chance to turn my life around.”</p><p class="western">“What did you do?” Kolivan placed his arms behind his back.</p><p class="western">“I took it. He got me out of juvie, took me under his wing for...some reason. He refused to give up on this,” Keith motioned to himself, “and after everything that happened with him being stuck as a prisoner, and every shitty thing that's happened to him since, I want to protect Shiro, I want to see real happiness return to his eyes, not something fake because he's trying to hold everything together himself. I don't want him to feel the loneliness I know, and I don't know how to make him realise that.” Keith grit his teeth, glaring up at Kolivan. “Happy?”</p><p class="western">“I was going to say 'when you were ready'.” Kolivan motioned for him to follow. Keith did, mentally kicking himself.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“To summarise, you see Shiro as the man who saved you from your own self-destructive tendencies?”</p><p class="western">“I guess.” Keith didn't know where they were going. He still wasn't used to headquarters.</p><p class="western">“Do you feel you owe him a life debt?”</p><p class="western">Keith stopped dead in his tracks.</p><p class="western">“Excuse me?”</p><p class="western">“I asked if you feel you owe him a life debt?” Kolivan sighed, turning to look at him.</p><p class="western">“I,” Keith brought his hand up his forearm, suddenly finding the floor interesting, “don't know. All I know is that I want to keep him protected, like he did me. Not because he did what he did, but because it feels like the right thing to do.” He frowned at the ground, wondering why his chest felt like it was being constricted all over again. “He's always been there and believed in me, and I feel like I can do anything...well, almost anything.”</p><p class="western">“I see.” Kolivan nodded to himself. “Come. We have other work to do. We will reconvene this conversation at a later point.” With that, he briskly moved off down the corridor, Keith jogging to catch up with his long strides.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Was it simply that he felt like he owed Shiro, or was it something else? Keith had never thought about it. Shiro was his friend – maybe something more then that. Family? Maybe? He didn't know what family felt like, let alone whether he was even doing friendship right.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">-</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">His eyes were locked on the looming ship in front of him as he brought the fighter faster and faster towards it. The shouts over the comms to stop blended into one noise, then he just couldn't hear it. Voltron was the only thing that could stand up to Zarkon, Lotor, and the Empire. They could reclaim a huge swathe of planets for the coalition. One life was worth nothing in comparison to billions. It was a no-brainer situation.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">It wasn't about the mission.</p><p class="western">It wasn't to have some noble, self-sacrificial death. Keith wasn't anyone's martyr.</p><p class="western">It wasn't about repaying Shiro for everything he did.</p><p class="western">It was making sure the universe remained free, and that his friends and allies didn't die.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">His hands shook on the controls. Breathing laboured. Erratic. His heart thundered in his chest as he got closer.</p><p class="western">Closer.</p><p class="western">He screwed his eyes shut. He hoped Shiro could forgive him one day.</p><p class="western">Impact alarms blared all around him.</p><p class="western">Closer.</p><p class="western">He didn't feel at peace.</p><p class="western">Keith cracked open a fearful eye, heart ready to explode, body shaking like he was lost in the desert at night.</p><p class="western">He didn't want to die.</p><p class="western">He didn't want to die without telling Shiro what he meant to him.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">A beam of light pierced through the ship. Keith swore, sharply yanking the controls. He was soaked in sweat, hair stuck to his forehead. He watched the explosions blossom across the ship in the afterglow of the beam. His eyes unfocused. Blinking didn't fix the bleariness, the fire dancing in his eyes. He fell forward over the controls, sucking in air like he'd almost drowned. He coughed, dry. Again, and again.</p><p class="western">He'd almost killed himself.</p><p class="western">He'd almost died.</p><p class="western">Was it worse that he'd rationalised it all in his head? Did he hate himself this much he felt like this was the only option? He drew his legs up into the seat, clutching himself tightly as he stared wide-eyed at the controls.</p><p class="western">Keith slowly rocked himself back and forth, eyes burning and throat clogged. The maelstrom was in full effect in his mind, pulling him every which way. Until the ship moved by it's own accord did he see part of the Black Lion, hear Shiro's panicked voice over the comms.</p><p class="western">“Keith? Keith! Be okay, please, be okay.”</p><p class="western">He sounded terrified.</p><p class="western">Keith was scared to think what he'd think of him. He knew he shouldn't be. He never wanted to see the look of disappointment on Shiro's face.</p><p class="western">“Shiro.” Keith croaked, voice cracking against his will. “I'm...I'm okay.”</p><p class="western">There was a long pause.</p><p class="western">“I'm taking you to the medbay.”</p><p class="western">“I didn't keep my word.”</p><p class="western">“You didn't die. You're safe. I got you.”</p><p class="western">Keith brushed his fingers against the side of his face. It was hot, wet. Shiro had him. He was safe.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Everything after was a blur of faces and voices. Keith knew he was removed from his ship, but didn't remember walking to the medbay. Did Shiro carry him? He remembered his face, always Shiro's face and those eyes. In his silent shaking, Keith wondered for a moment what it'd be like to see all the details so much closer then he ever had. He wondered how many different flecks of grey was truly in there.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Did he really almost try and sacrifice himself to save that many people? Keith stared down at his hands. He used to really hate people; self-serving bullies, greedy foster carers, apathetic social workers, and judgemental teachers. Friends? He had imaginary ones as a kid. They said he'd go no where, be a failure, a drain on the system. Amount to nothing. When had that changed? He tried to focus again through the soothing white lights. Hunk had just come in, Lance and Pidge rushing behind him. They surrounded him. Pidge grabbed his hand, mouth moving but he didn't understand the noises it made. Hunk was trying to placate Lance, who like usual spoke with his hands.</p><p class="western">“Thanks.”</p><p class="western">Keith sounded different to himself. The others stopped, looking at each other, then him again.</p><p class="western">“Alright, mullet is definitely broken.”</p><p class="western">“<em>Lance!</em>” Pidge and Hunk groaned.</p><p class="western">Keith didn't know why he was laughing. It wasn't funny – Lance was never funny – but right now, it was the most hilarious thing in the universe.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">-</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Here,” Keith took the bowl from Krolia, “you've spent a lot of energy training today.”</p><p class="western">“This is, uh,” Keith stared at it, “you gave me too much.”</p><p class="western">“Nonsense,” she raised the make-shift spoon to her lips, “you're still growing, therefore require more.”</p><p class="western">“Still, don't just feed me in excess.” He managed a laugh, bringing the steaming broth to his lips. She offered him a warm smile, and Keith felt himself return it. Even with the solar flares that brought glimpses of the long past and...questionable future, being here with just her and the excitable space wolf they'd found, Keith felt happy, <em>lucky</em>.</p><p class="western">“Thanks, mom.” He smiled around the spoon in his mouth, offering the wolf a quick pet when he whined up from Keith's feet.</p><p class="western">“After seeing the sheer amount of out-take-”</p><p class="western">“-take-out-”</p><p class="western">“-yes, that. What your father fed you. I fear that may be why you're so scrawny.” She gave him a sly grin and Keith could only snort in reply.</p><p class="western">She was making up on the lost time. They spoke, a lot. She'd wanted to know everything, and sometimes it worked out easier to just let each other see the flashes and explain them. Especially when it came to her life. It felt strange, but good to be so open and honest about everything, and Krolia would listen intently.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">He set the bowl down in his lap, brow creased in thought.</p><p class="western">“That flash, from the other day.”</p><p class="western">“The future one about Shiro?” She glanced over at him, brows knit together. Keith nodded his head slowly, fishing out a bit of insect and feeding the wolf.</p><p class="western">“Yeah.”</p><p class="western">“Keith,” he watched as she rose from her seat and came over, settling herself down at his side, “there's a chance it may not play out as we have seen,” she brought her clawed hand around his shoulder, pulling him closer, “but we must prepare you for the worst case scenario, just like you asked.”</p><p class="western">“I feel like I should have picked up on it sooner,” he pushed the wolf's eager snuffling snout away from his bowl, “I should have known the Galra would have done something. There must be some chip or program in it. I just don't get why they didn't activate it sooner, like when Sendak first came to attack the castle. How can I call myself Shiro's friend when I can't even see the differences like that? I mean <em>Lance </em>told me Shiro took Lotor to the Kral Zera behind the team's back. Shiro <em>never </em>does things like that. At first I didn't want to believe him, because Shiro always has a plan and a reason, but now I'm just not sure with what we saw. I'm,” Keith looked up into eyes just like his own, “scared. I don't know if I could honestly kill him, but if he...if he hurts the others I have to do something. He's not evil though; it's Shiro, he's the nicest, kindest person I know.” He knew she already knew – after talking about each other, his father and Shiro were the second major topics of conversation. “I don't know what to do.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“What do you want to do?”</p><p class="western">“I want to save him.”</p><p class="western">“Then that is what you'll do. Perhaps it was after the second time he was captured,” her fingers traced patterns against his flight suit, “that was when they did something to him. You cannot allow yourself to ruminate on what ifs; the fact of the matter is you do not know, but at least you have a forewarning, which is why we're training. I don't want to lose you again, so I would selfishly ask you not to let your mother be left without her son, but I couldn't live seeing you so distraught over him if you had to kill him. He has been your gravity, and you've crossed galaxies to come back together,” she pressed her lips against his forehead, “your love for each other makes me question how much I truly loved your father.”</p><p class="western">Keith jerked in her hold.</p><p class="western">“Love?! I-It's not like that! I mean I care about him a lot, but there's no way, none. I'm too young-” he watched her eyebrow arch, “okay he's out of my league.”</p><p class="western">“Well perhaps he is not in your league-”</p><p class="western">“Mom!” He set the bowl down to cover his face, cursing as the pup instantaneously just shoved it's snout into the bowl, greedily lapping and chomping down his food. “Look, I've never thought of anyone like that – never had the feelings people describe or whatever.”</p><p class="western">“Remember you're not fully human. The Galra exhibit love differently. I recall once your father prepared me a meal with candles,” she frowned at the recollection, “I appreciated the sentiment, but the gesture in Galran wouldn't fall under the same consideration. Personally, I thought he was thinking of my preference for duller light conditions.”</p><p class="western">“So...how exactly do the Galra exhibit love?” This was not a conversation he was expecting to have. Shiro was close...like family, but not quite right either.</p><p class="western">“Well, since we have time, and some leftovers, let's talk over food.” She rose took the immaculately clean bowl the wolf kept licking from under its nose with a musical laugh. Keith was grateful for the openness here; it was...good to learn that he wasn't just messed up or wrong.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">-</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“It won't work, Keith.” Shiro stared despondently at the controls. “I may've flown one-handed before, but the connection's gone. I'm not going to be piloting Black again.” His eyes flicked to Keith's face in the dark cockpit, then away just as quickly. “I know you never wanted to lead Voltron, but you're the only one now who can.” He pushed himself from the seat, not looking him in the face. “You know I'm proud of you, right? Knew you'd be a good leader. You've,” there was an audible swallow, “really came into your own. The time with your mom and the Blade of Marmora really did you good, and I'm glad - <em>proud</em>.”</p><p class="western">“Shiro, just try a little longer, <em>please</em>.” Keith hesitated moving towards him. Since everything that'd happened since his consciousness was planted back into the body, to say Shiro was different was an understatement. His depression was crushing to watch in real-time, and Keith didn't know how to cope with it; he still had his own issues and guilt to work out, but couldn't imagine what Shiro was doing to himself internally. He'd tried to broach it, but Shiro just couldn't get the words out. It took him needing to pet Kosmo for almost an hour to even calm down, and even after that he shut down for a few hours.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“You know I don't blame you.”</p><p class="western">“You said, but I blame myself.”</p><p class="western">“Shiro, <em>please-</em>”</p><p class="western">“I don't think I can stay in Black any more. I've been thinking and it's just,” he shook his head, running his only hand through his white hair, “I've been in here for who knows how long. It feels suffocating. It's me, my issues. Don't think it's you.”</p><p class="western">“It's hard not to think that.”</p><p class="western">“I need more time. Everything is just...I dunno. I'm still figuring out this body, who exactly I am, what my worth is-”</p><p class="western">“Don't ever question your worth! You're worth the universe to me!” He didn't realise how loud his voice was, or what he'd just said. Shiro's eyes widened for a moment, before he turned his head away. “We all care about you – you've helped every single one of us with our problems, so please, let us help <em>you</em>.”</p><p class="western">“You've really matured,” his voice was like a whisper, just like when Shiro said his name at the facility, “and I'm so, so proud of how far you've come. It seems I have to catch up to you.”</p><p class="western">“Let me in, <em>please</em>. I want to help you through this.”</p><p class="western">“I said it before, but I can't level the burden of my care upon your shoulders. You've saved me so many times I've lost count, and I've never been able to return your selfless actions. You never gave up on me, and I don't deserve you. Not like I am. So let me find myself all over again, and if you can wait for this old timer to stop being pathetic,” he finally turned to Keith with a face like he was about to break down at any given second, “I'd ask that you give him a chance to explain himself to you in time.”</p><p class="western">Keith wanted to ask how much time, but Shiro moved from the cockpit in silence. The atmosphere left was heavy on his shoulders, his heart.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Part of him wanted to run after Shiro and slap him for being an idiot. The other part of him knew that in itself was selfish. Thrown into the arena then flung back to Earth, then barely a few days upon his return he's back out in space again entering an intergalactic war. Then there was the constant reminders of his trauma, how he took the brunt for the team. He'd died, been replaced, come back from the astral plane and almost died again only to now be without purpose. Shiro had always hated being unable to do a thing and feeling powerless. He'd wait; no matter what, and no matter how long it took.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Maybe this is what his mom meant about Galra when they were in love. He shouldn't of said Shiro was like a brother. That definitely wasn't the right word.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">-</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Why didn't Hunk realise that not answering him made Keith worry? Why was he being so selfish? They all knew, he <em>knew they knew</em>, that by now Keith had his issues with being alone or losing people, but yet Hunk didn't think it worthy to offer him an answer when they did a sound-off. They were all supposed to be friends, but apparently the others were <em>still </em>against him when he rightly got annoyed and frustrated.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Then again.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">It was always just those three, Allura and Coran, and him and Shiro. That was what it was like on the ship. <em>Shiro </em>knew him, even Haggar or Honvera or whatever her name was knew they had a deep connection.</p><p class="western">Perhaps they weren't even friends. Perhaps Keith should never have become so complacent in even considering he could make, let alone have, friends. Even now, Shiro had backed off because he couldn't even read <em>his only friend</em>.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">It was like everything was splintering apart and he was suffocating.</p><p class="western">Oxygen levels low.</p><p class="western">He'd been fine before and he'd be fine now. This team was a joke, this 'family' he thought he'd found was an even bigger one. They were thrown together by chance, and now in some freak accident or whatever, they were going to suffocate together in deep space.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">He wanted his mom, Kosmo, anyone right now to tell him to stop.</p><p class="western">He was alone, drowning within his own thoughts, <em>again</em>.</p><p class="western">Why did he let those defences crumble? Why did he have to have <em>hope</em> in other people? He should've stayed as he was, remaining dependent on his own abilities. Fuck the others, fuck everything at this point. They didn't understand, never tried to even bother. Selfish, selfish, <em>selfish</em>.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">There was something he saw from the corner of his eye. It was like, no, they couldn't be in the Quantum Abyss again. It <em>wasn't </em>those creatures. He could feel his rage, his fear he could never admit to, boil inside. Keith grit his teeth. No, he couldn't get angry with low oxygen, he'd kill himself quicker if he didn't regulate his breathing. Now. Regulate. He screwed his eyes shut, teeth clenched so hard they hurt, as he tried to bring himself back into line.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Oxygen levels low.</p><p class="western">He didn't want to die out here alone.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">-</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">He wouldn't let Sendak kill him, not with what Shiro had done to help, not after glimpsing their fight on the falling cruiser. Keith brought his sword down with every ounce of force he could muster. Sendak had chosen death the day he hurt Shiro; this was a long time coming. He didn't even deserve his attention as he ran to Shiro's body on the ground. If he was on the verge of death <em>again</em>. His eyes widened. He was alive. Beaten and bruised, but alive. Keith dropped down at his side, face softening as Shiro gave him a lopsided smile. He gave one back.</p><p class="western">“He's gone. We won. We,” Keith licked his dry lips, “we finally did it. Earth's safe, you're safe.”</p><p class="western">“Keith.” Shiro tried to push himself up, wincing. With all the care he could muster through the exhaustion of this war, he helped Shiro up slowly, letting his weight fall upon his shoulder. Okay, maybe Shiro was heavier then he thought. Keith gazed at him; finally, they could maybe talk soon once Earth was in a better place. Shiro tilted his head with a grunt, their eyes locked for a long time. He wondered what was going on under the surface.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Any and all good feelings disintegrated when the strange mech landed.</p><p class="western">One more push to defend Earth; just one more time.</p><p class="western">Keith was ready to defend it with his life, they all were.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Glass Half-Full</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I hope you enjoyed the Keith POV, and now on to Shiro's!<br/>You'll find with him he cycles, because Shiro has A LOT to unpack. I adore writing him, and I think you'll notice that xD</p><p>This chapter has a lot of suicidal feelings and wishing for death, along with the referenced/implied torture. Also I recall a note around Kuron and I done my best to try not to focus on that part, although it does need to be addressed. But since I love Kuron and hate what the show did, precious babe.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="western">When Shiro first came to the Garrison, he'd hated the desert with a passion; sand scratched his face, got in his ears, and always in his shoes somehow. Years later, he'd found comfort in the expanse and the strange little nooks and formations he'd found when he was out riding. It was like space, in a weird sort of way. The moon was always an obvious landmark in space, the asteroid belt changed every time he went anywhere near it, but it was still a constant, and the stars twinkled like distant oasis's in the inky blackness, just like the larger formations did when he'd fly over them. They didn't twinkle, but it was besides the point. He'd miss coming out and feeling the heat on his body, but space called him like it always had into the great unknown. For now, he tuned out from his desires and just enjoyed this down time before tomorrow. He'd had a great race again with Keith; absolutely kicked his ass, and now, as the sun set, he was content to just sit here with him and forget everything over the last few weeks.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Can I tell you something?”</p><p class="western">“Mhmm,” Shiro opened his eyes, wondering why Keith sounded so uncertain, “you know you don't need to ask, Keith.”</p><p class="western">“It sounds stupid, and I don't want you to think I'm being selfish or anything,” Keith swallowed and frowned at the ground, “I'm gonna miss you, even though I know you're coming back.”</p><p class="western">Shiro straightened himself. Maybe he shouldn't of said anything about Adam to him after all. He was worried this might happen, but Keith had handled hearing about his condition easier then he expected. He felt a twinge of guilt; well done, Shirogane.</p><p class="western">“You're not being stupid, Keith.” Shiro placed his hand on his shoulder and offered a smile that might help calm him. “I'll be gone for a while. Your feelings are valid, and I certainly wouldn't say you're being selfish.”</p><p class="western">He paused, recalling how him and Adam had screamed at each other about this very thing. Shiro thought he was selfish for trying to make him stay, Adam thought Shiro was selfish because he was throwing his life away to chase dreams that he was getting too sick to follow. Keith, on the other hand, wasn't trying to stop him, or treat him like a patient like almost everyone at the Garrison bar Sam and Matt, maybe a few other friends who hadn't sided with Adam.</p><p class="western">“You don't need to worry that you're acting like Adam. You're not treating me like that.” He wanted to say that Keith wasn't being an ableist asshole so far as he was concerned, but then everything was still raw. Keith hadn't judged him, and out of everyone he cared for, he was going to miss Keith the most. “Besides, I'm going to miss you too, miss my friends...even Iverson.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">It was good to hear Keith snort, watch his nose scrunch up in that way it did when he didn't want to let himself go. Shiro couldn't help his laugh as he shuffled closer. It felt good to feel so carefree again. Ending it with Adam made him feel a lot better about himself; not as depressed as he had been previously. Still, he'd worried Keith, and he wanted to make sure their last full day together was a good one.</p><p class="western">“The thing I'll miss most will be kicking your ass in a flat race.” He watched Keith's eyes widen, lips part for a split second.</p><p class="western">“Not like it's hard for you, mister golden-boy, ace-pilot. I'm gonna beat your records by the time you get back, and next time we race, you'll be eating <em>my</em> dust.” There was those fighting words. Keith never admitted it, or maybe didn't realise, but there was a <em>slight</em> competitive streak there. One he couldn't help but poke at.</p><p class="western">“Do I detect some arrogance there?”</p><p class="western">“If you do, it's <em>your</em> fault!” Keith smirked back and Shiro couldn't help snorting now. “We do spend a lotta time together.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>If you spent more on this relationship then Keith, maybe we wouldn't be fighting right now!” </em></p><p class="western">“<em>Don't you dare bring him into this! Have you ever thought that maybe I spend time with him because you just push and mother me when I never asked for it?!”</em></p><p class="western">“<em>It feels like you'd rather be with him then me sometimes.”</em></p><p class="western">“<em>Don't sound so fucking paranoid!”</em></p><p class="western">Shiro managed a laugh, but the memory stung. He was trying to make sure Keith was given every opportunity he could have; he just wanted to see him do well. Was that a bad thing? Was it weird? Was he putting his position, career, in jeopardy all because he was trying to do the right thing?</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Well, when you graduate you can put your money where your mouth is,” he shifted his body to shake the memory, “if I can, I'll see about raising the stakes. No hover bikes,” he pointed up, “the real thing. I'm sure I can find a way to race you in the skies.” He wasn't sure how he'd manage that, admittedly, but he could probably find some reason to bring a few of them up with him. Keith would be his only competition, and that in itself was thrilling to think about. In another life, maybe they would have been flight partners or in the same squadron. It would've been nice, instead of being at the top of his classes, ostracised and called a teacher's pet. He suppressed the memories of the whispers; that he was <em>doing things</em> to get better grades. At least Adam never believed that.</p><p class="western">“You'll have an unfair advantage!”</p><p class="western">“Just because I've got more experience doesn't mean I'm automatically better. You're a natural at this. So long as you remember-”</p><p class="western">“-patience yields focus-”</p><p class="western">“-that, yeah, you'll honestly be smashing all my records before I get home. You find the simulations easy, Keith, seriously,” he emphasised the latter, “you are an amazing pilot. It's a shame we're not the same age, because you'd have made an awesome flight partner or someone to have friendly competition with. I wonder what it would've felt like, having a rival.” The way Keith looked at him screamed he didn't believe him. It hurt to know how messed up people in positions of power had been towards him. No one deserved to have their self-worth shattered to pieces like this. He needed to bring Keith back.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Hey, ground control to cadet Keith. Can you read me?” Shiro tousled the dark mess of hair with a laugh. Keith swatted pathetically with a chuckle, otherworldly eyes twinkling in the light. There he was; coming back from the depths he knew Keith got lost within.</p><p class="western">“I know compliments break you, and life has been unfairly tough on you, but one day, I think you'll find yourself in a much better place, and you'll look back at yourself in a few years time and ask yourself: 'was that really what I was like?'” Keith paused, clearly reflecting. Shiro had travelled a different, yet similar in some respects, path before. His issues had accumulated in a severe case of anxiety around failure. Anything less then perfection would have him spiral, and it only got worse when his condition was diagnosed. Brought on by years of pressure to study and achieve and become something of worth or note, it'd gotten to him. Adam and Sam had helped him, and Iverson, for all his coarseness, helped pull him out of his slumps. Most of the time he was fine, but he'd learned the best way to deal for him was to focus on others; help build them up and praise their achievements.</p><p class="western">“You honestly think so? I don't think it's likely. I mean, someone has to have faith.”</p><p class="western">“Hey,” he wasn't having this negativity, “listen to this old timer. I've got years of experience on you.” It was one of Keith's favoured 'insults', and even if it was a bit rude, Shiro had a soft spot for it.</p><p class="western">“Ah yeah, I forgot you were born in the 'dial-up' era-” Somehow this was ruder, but the little sparkle in his eyes had Shiro repressing a laugh.</p><p class="western">“I'm twenty-four, not <em>two-hundred and twenty-four!</em>” Shiro put on the pout as he tousled Keith's hair again. Keith caught his wrist <em>fast;</em> grin widening when he went to pull away. He loosened a soft chuckle, catching Keith's wrist in his other hand. It hurt to move, but he was due his medication soon.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">-</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">They weren't allowed to get drunk before they went – especially Shiro – but he was certainly content enough as he and Keith walked to the base of the rocket. Right now the crews were doing all the final checks. He was happy he could share his last night on Earth with someone who meant something to him, even if he hadn't opened up to Keith as much as he would have preferred to at times. There was only so much he was able to talk about due to safeguarding regulations and policy, and he'd found himself wondering for a while now how different or similar it would be if Shiro could be open with Keith. Not in a weird way, just...give more back to him. He let out a content hum, staring up at the ship that reflected the moonlight, and then down at Keith who was quietly staring at it too.</p><p class="western">“I won't be your mentor by the time I get back, since you'd of graduated by then.”</p><p class="western">“Yeah, I...get that. It's gonna suck.”</p><p class="western">“Why'd you say that?”</p><p class="western">“Well, we won't get to hang out as much, right?”</p><p class="western">“Not necessarily,” Shiro started, pushing his hands into his pockets as he stared upwards, “I was wondering, when I come back, whether you'd want to,” he scratched the back of his head, trying to work out what sounded casual enough, “hang out or something? I'm gonna miss mac and cheese, and it'd be good to catch up after it all.” He looked down at Keith, watching as his expression changed from confusion to realisation.</p><p class="western">“You wanna hang out with me? Really?”</p><p class="western">“Yeah. I consider you a friend, and because I won't be your mentor any more, I won't need to be so reserved all the time. If you're okay with that.” He didn't know why this felt so fucking awkward.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Well, promise me that you'll come back safe, and I promise I'll wait. Then you can tell me all your stories, because I like hearing them.” Keith's stare was intense, and Shiro found himself needing to escape those brilliant eyes. Another memory; Adam again. He wouldn't wait for him. He bit his lip.</p><p class="western">“You'd wait for me? Really?”</p><p class="western">“Yeah,” Keith arched an eyebrow at him, “is your hearing going too, <em>old timer</em>?”</p><p class="western">“Seriously,” Shiro's voice was hoarse, he'd blame the alcohol, “you would wait?”</p><p class="western">“I wouldn't say something I didn't mean. I swear I'll wait, and if you don't come home, I'll take a ship and come find you myself.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “You're my only friend,” he added quietly, “and I'm going to feel really alone while you're gone,” he glanced at the ship, then Shiro dead in the eyes, “but patience yields focus, and I'm gonna show you how patient I can be.”</p><p class="western">Shiro didn't know what to say, so he let his actions convey the words he couldn't speak.</p><p class="western">“C'mere.” He brought Keith into a hug. “Thank you.” Keith was rigid for a moment, before bringing his arms around to hug Shiro back.</p><p class="western">“I think you need to go to bed, you've gotta be up early.”</p><p class="western">“Yeah,” they broke apart, Shiro unsure where to let his eyes fall, “but let me walk you back. I've enjoyed today. It's been,” he swallowed the strange lump in his throat, “the best pre-launch I've ever had.”</p><p class="western">Keith didn't meet his smile, but he could tell by how he stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets, he was being bashful again. Shiro winced as he motioned for Keith to follow; a surge of pain shooting through his right arm. He carefully rotated his wrist, pushing down the agony as best he could.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">-</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Champion!”</p><p class="western">With a thud, the bloody hooked sword fell from his hand to the stained sands below. Wide-eyed and hyperventilating at the corpse of the huge monster, alien, <em>whatever</em> he had just slaughtered. The roar around him was deafening, disorientating. He stumbled around in a circle, head whipping left and right and up and down. Everywhere and anywhere.</p><p class="western">He'd just killed someone.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Champion!”</p><p class="western">He stared at his hands, shaking like he was naked in the arctic. This place was sweltering like the desert in summer. The thunderous clamour around him like the jets when they flew overhead. He'd killed. He'd killed to keep Matt from dying out here. He had to keep up the charade; if these aliens sensed weakness in him, then they could do who knew what to him. Shiro bent down on unsteady legs to pick up the sword. His muscles and nerves felt like they were on fire; this couldn't be good for his condition. Fingers couldn't grip the hilt. It slipped from his hand. He swiped it up in his left instead, taking a sharp breath in through his nose. The stench of blood brought its taste to the back of his throat and he wanted to vomit there and then.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Champion!”</p><p class="western">With a roar of his own, he thrust the sword into the air, eyes painfully wide and seared by the bright light. The advice he was given on the off-chance he was ever caught behind enemies lines was to become a valuable asset. What that meant for him here, he wasn't sure. The only thing he was sure of as a pair of robots approached him, was that if he wanted to survive and try and get home, he was going to have to play the part of someone he wasn't. Shiro wasn't sure whether he was capable of doing that <em>and </em>staying alive, and this was all dependant on his arm not giving out when he needed it most. In a sick way; if he died here, at least it wasn't the condition.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Patience yields focus. He needed to remember that mantra.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">-</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Kneel.”</p><p class="western">Shiro glowered at the tyrant sat in his throne. <em>This </em>was who he was entertainment for. He clenched the hated metal fist tight at his side, lips curling upwards like the violent animal he'd prefer they believe he was.</p><p class="western">“<b>Kneel.</b>” The command came harsher, strange purple-white glowing eyes narrowed dangerously. Shiro already knew his place was under their boots, but that wouldn't stop him from retaining some defiance. The sentries forced his body down, but he kept his eyes trained on Zarkon.</p><p class="western">“Your bloodthirstiness has entertained me, Champion.” He laced his fingers together as he spoke slowly. “You have been refined and fixed,” Zarkon leaned forward, armour creaking, “to the point you may have more worth then a mere gladiator.”</p><p class="western">Shiro watched as Zarkon pushed himself from his throne, waving away the sentries at his sides. He may still be glaring with all the malice he could muster, but Shiro was <em>terrified </em>as to what exactly Zarkon meant. He was hoping they'd keep him in the arena where things were at least...<em>easier</em> to cope with. He was at the point where he got a few hours of sleep with nightmares, instead of staring at the ceiling in fear of what would come. He didn't want anything else, just to keep himself alive long enough to escape and find the others, maybe try and find a way to work through the crushing guilt he felt between the numbness.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Haggar thinks she can make you worthy to serve the Empire.” Zarkon's boots echoed around the room as he stalked, painfully slowly, around Shiro like he was prey. “I am not certain you are ready.” Shiro could feel his presence behind him. He wanted to look backwards, run, do something. “I do not think your mind is correct. You must be broken,” he started walking again, “reformed.” He stopped in front of Shiro, his monstrous form casting him in shadow. The concept of serving the Empire in any more of a capacity made him sick to his stomach. He couldn't kill any more innocent people for the Galra; there was no way his mental fortitude could withstand anything more than the arena.</p><p class="western">“No-” Shiro was on his back in less then second; Zarkon's boot pressed against his chest.</p><p class="western">“Defiance will be purged from your system,” Shiro grit his teeth as Zarkon ground the heel against his sternum, “Commander Sendak will see to your conditioning.” The tyrant's lips twitched into some ghost of a smile. “I trained him myself, and I can promise you, Champion, he is as cruel as I.”</p><p class="western">The name rang a bell, but Shiro wasn't sure exactly who Sendak was. As if by some cruel cue by the universe, the doors at the other end of the throne room opened. Shiro watched as the boot was removed as the Galra moved briskly through the room, the echo of the claw-tipped boots clattering against the floor ringing in his ears. He came to a stop behind Shiro, face twisted in abject disgust as he glared down.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Emperor Zarkon,” Sendak brought his arm across his chest, “please accept my apologies for my lateness.”</p><p class="western">“It matters not,” Zarkon moved slowly back to his throne, resettling himself with a soft grunt, “the Champion has been informed of its new purpose. I trust you will continue to please me.” Shiro caught Zarkon motion at him as he pushed himself from the ground.</p><p class="western">“Champion.” He snapped his head to Zarkon. “Sendak has been in charge of your care upon his vessel since you were brought to the main fleet,” he rested his face against the back of his hand, “it would do you well to show the Commander your gratitude.” He felt his mouth open and close. “With enthusiasm.” Zarkon did smile, and Shiro didn't like it's implication.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">It was like something snapped. He lunged, fist drawn back, aimed for the bastard who goaded him from his seat of power. Zarkon didn't even move to defend himself.</p><p class="western">He didn't need to, and Shiro realised why when metal claws brought their crushing grip around his body. They suffocated him as they broke through fabric and flesh like it was paper. He felt the blood, then tasted it when Sendak smashed his body with force into the ground at Zarkon's feet. It tore a yell from his rough throat.</p><p class="western">“You <em>dare </em>attempt to attack the Emperor? You are a <em>pathetic </em>creature. My Lord,” Shiro watched wide-eyed as the claws came to life with a low thrum, “should I end its miserable existence here?”</p><p class="western">“No,” Zarkon's voice kept to that deep, steady timbre, “continue as directed. Use as much force as required. Do what you consider necessary to,” and Zarkon's face became twisted, “<em>tame him</em>.”</p><p class="western">“Very well.”</p><p class="western">Shiro was forced to stand, body aching something fierce.</p><p class="western">“Move.” Sendak's growl was harsh as he pushed him along, Shiro's feet refusing to comply. He dropped to the ground, clutching at the wounds he could, smearing blood over the thin material.</p><p class="western">“Move, or I <em>will drag you</em>.”</p><p class="western">He'd prefer Sendak didn't. Shiro tried. He failed to take a few steps. Laughter, and then claws in his hair.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Sendak pulled him along screaming. When they were outside the throne room, Shiro's body was slammed against the wall, Sendak's hand around his throat.</p><p class="western">“I have been observing you, <em>Champion</em>,” he leaned in way too close, “and I can see through your farcical attempt at misdirection. You are not what you claim,” Shiro clawed at his wrist, breathing becoming ever-more difficult, “so I will have no more of this beast of mindless slaughter. You will show me your insides,” he dropped Shiro into an unceremonious heap on the floor, “and I will give you the pleasure of tearing every shred of weakness away. Mark my words, <em>Champion</em>,” the boot against his shoulder <em>hurt</em>, “I will break you to the point your only sense of self-worth will come from serving your masters, and you will enjoy every tick of it.” Sendak's face contorted into something Shiro could only assume was sadistic glee, and every single hair over his body stood on end. He was going to regret his reckless decision to attack Zarkon, and he had a terrible foreboding feeling, as Sendak dragged him along by the metal wrist, the Commander was going to make his life a living hell if the witch didn't first.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Shiro wanted to cling to a memory of a better time, but every time he tried to think of home, all he could see was Keith's terrified face as Shiro bore down over him; driving the blade into his chest over and over and over again. The screams were the amalgamation of what he imagined him to sound like, and every one else he'd been forced to slay. Now it was going to be worse. Maybe he should have died instead? There'd been a few close calls. Maybe he should just...give up now for the greater good? If he was dead, then he couldn't kill any more people. If he was dead, they couldn't repurpose him where he would probably kill <em>even more people</em>.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">-</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Bruised and abused after Sendak's torture, Shiro couldn't even make it to the poor excuse of a bed the Galra had given him in this cell. The pain of his body paled in comparison to the daily numbness he found himself in. How long had it been now? Time was meaningless. Defiance was meaningless. Yet the universe kept going on around him. Against the cold floor, he allowed his mind to wander back to Earth. Had Keith broken those records? Had he graduated yet or was it soon? What, if anything, had they been told about the Kerberos mission? He tried to crawl but choked out a cry of pain instead. Like everyone else, Keith had likely moved on. He wouldn't really wait for Shiro to return if he thought he was dead. He'd grieve, and Shiro couldn't blame him for it, but life would pan out well for him in the end. Maybe he made some friends, maybe one day he would find himself a lover who could make him happy. Happiness was what Keith deserved. Shiro? Well, perhaps this was a cosmic punishment for his reckless and selfish behaviour? The Galra had taken away his condition and stolen that slow and painful death only to replace it with a new one. They'd forced him into quicksand and were sat watching him sink, beg, and claw for a mercy they would never show.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">It hurt to think and feel. There was a lump in his throat that swallowing wouldn't get rid of. His cheeks burned as tears travelled the length, and he felt each individual drip.</p><p class="western">He was so scared and alone, and no amount of trying to talk himself from the depths his mind took him was working. He was their toy – pet – of some variety. Ostracised from others, bottling and compartmentalising as best he could. He knew, <em>god he knew</em>, this was unhealthy, but Shiro was at a loss. He didn't know how to keep himself above the sands that dragged and suffocated him down. He didn't know how he was still going at this point. Self-preservation, he guessed, was the strongest trait he had. He cursed it, himself.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Up.”</p><p class="western">Shiro didn't even bother looking at the speaker.</p><p class="western">“I said get up.” They moved around in front of him and crouched down, taking his face roughly in their gloved clawed hand. Pale purple fur...skin, offset by some white markings over a half-masked face. He didn't recognise this one.</p><p class="western">“You are required in the labs by the High Priestess.”</p><p class="western">He wanted to thrash about and run, but all he could do was make the most pathetic of whimpers. The Galra tilted his head to the side.</p><p class="western">“You are hurt?”</p><p class="western">“Yes.”</p><p class="western">“Can you stand?”</p><p class="western">Shiro shook his head as best he could.</p><p class="western">“I see.” The Galra dropped his face. Shiro stiffened when clawed hands wrapped around his body and he was hoisted from the floor. “It is safer you comply with Sendak. You are the Champion,” there was a strange pause, “and I believe you can survive him.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">-</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">The clothes were a tight fit, just like the body suits he'd been forced to wear, but considerably more comfortable. For the first time in a year, if the calender inside was to be believed, he was wearing underwear again. Such a small luxury, but one he was so grateful for. Shiro toyed with the collar. He'd awoken to find Keith of all people at the bottom of the bed, not in the Garrison. The lost time and unknowns made the uneasiness stir, but it was only amplified by the huge gaps in his memory. Warm sand caressed his face, the grains dancing across his metal hand. He remembered fragments about 'Voltron', the 'Galra', some names, phantom faces and scenes in his head; but everything else played out under dark filters. Sam and Matt. Prisoners. Where were they? He looked up into the sky, just like he used to do. It hurt his eyes. Were they still up there? They had to be. He had to find them. He had to warn someone about the Galra. They would come. Come for him. Voltron? Maybe that. Was Voltron here? What was it?</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">It all all whipped around in his head like a tornado. He had to reassess his priorities. He was here – Earth – providing it wasn't an illusion. Keith was here, others too in the shack. Children. He had to protect them from the Galra, had to protect them from the horrors that'd found their solar system. A year. They'd come back. He stared at the metal fingers again. Something happened for him to come back here, and he couldn't waste the opportunity. He needed answers, but priorities. Yes, refocus those. Find the others, find answers, protect them. The others must have found him after he came back. Seen him as dead weight, but worth protecting somehow. He narrowed his eyes at the hand. No. Never again like that. He couldn't be a burden; even if he felt broken. A tactical retreat to his interior. Protect himself, but from what? Reliance? He didn't know.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">So many questions and no answers.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">-</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“I couldn't sleep.”</p><p class="western">He ran his hands over the controls, slowly curling each finger around them. To fly again was like a dream come true, and one he so desperately hoped wouldn't be cut short too quickly.</p><p class="western">“You're probably going to find me here a lot,” Shiro started, leaning back into the seat with his eyes closed, “I have a lot of bad dreams and just as bad thoughts. Sleep doesn't come easy any more.” He snorted into the empty cockpit, although was certain the Black Lion was listening.</p><p class="western">“It felt good to form Voltron. I'm grateful you considered me worthy of being your pilot, but I have to ask why.” He opened his eyes slowly. “I'm not saying I can't lead, because I know I can, but I don't know if I can honestly do the right thing any more.” He took a sharp breath in, letting it pass slowly out through his mouth. “I've caused a lot of pain, and a lot of suffering over the last year. I don't know if I'm qualified to make decisions that affect so many lives. I was lucky I remembered Sendak's ship, because otherwise we could have let innocent people die. I almost made a call not to save them, and feel <em>so</em> guilty. It was cold, but at the same time, this is war. You can't save everyone no matter how hard you try. I don't even know for certain if I saved my friend.” Shiro swallowed down the lump in his throat.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Black stirred in his mind. Although <em>different</em>, it wasn't terrifying or ominous. It felt affirming, gentle almost. Black understood his worries.</p><p class="western">“I don't know if I need to seek redemption or atonement, but I want to do what's right. I want to help my team as much as possible to be the best they can be. I just...I'm scared. I'm broken to some extent, and I don't want to break them. What if I mess up? What if I make a mistake and one of them dies on my watch?” He sunk forwards, head between his legs and hands pushed into his hair. “I need to be there for them but I can't let them see what's under the surface because even I don't know myself. If I let them in, give them cause to worry, they won't focus on the task at hand. Their leader shouldn't be a burden to them, they need to be a pillar that holds everyone else up. If I show weakness, morale will drop. Then what? Is it wrong I need to keep them at an arms length? Is...is this position meant to be so lonely? Or is this a new hell of my own creation?” He bit his lip at the long rumble.</p><p class="western">“I just want to have worth again, be a good and just defender of the universe. Is that a selfish desire?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">-</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Once he was certain Keith was out of earshot, Shiro turned back to Sendak. He never ordered his death like the others and spoke with him like they were familiar somehow. He <em>remembered </em>that Sendak tortured him – the earlier electrocution a <em>shocking </em>reminder – he couldn't help the tug of his lips at the poor joke. Regardless, as he set the cryopod up like Allura had shown him, he could feel the rumination start.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">On one hand, he <em>could</em> torture Sendak. He was an enemy with <em>exceedingly </em>important information if it could be extracted. It could help end the war earlier, help them work out the Galra's motivations, key places to hit. On the other hand, if he was to torture Sendak, he'd be just him like him. Then there was Keith. How Shiro'd given him a few too many glimpses at what lay beneath the surface now. He needed to apologise and work out how much Keith had. He was sharp and intense, and underestimating his perceptiveness would lead him to awkward conversations he didn't want to bring Keith into. He knew he'd break and cave given half the chance, and it could not be allowed. He needed to enforce a stronger self-discipline. He planted his hands on his hips, digging his fingers in sharply.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Shiro wouldn't be being good or just, or able to look at the others knowing how he extracted the information. He'd be succumbing to Sendak's goading, and disappointing Keith. Someone had faith in him, and he'd rather not distance himself from the only person on the ship he could say he was close to with confidence. Keith had been supportive. Shiro needed to honour that in his actions, how he held himself. He wouldn't let Keith suffer worrying about him; he was stronger then this. He would get answers the right way; and if he didn't get any from Sendak, there'd be another way. Maybe his memories would return, like they had been. It was just painful how they came back, and after each battle or incident, he was finding himself needing to withdraw.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">-</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">In a daze, Shiro had found his way to Black. Black had shown him a small side room on board; apparently it wasn't fitting for its Paladin to fall asleep in the pilots seat, even if he'd argue <em>at least he would be ready for combat</em>. Black was in his head, comforting rumbles and all, but Shiro couldn't accept it. Today had been bittersweet, and he was so confused and lost around his feelings.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Ulaz had sacrificed himself for them to live, and although Keith had stood by him, the fact was the others and Allura especially didn't seem all that bothered or grateful about it; her especially. To say he was angry was an understatement. He wanted to scream, yell, lose it. Ulaz had saved him from the Galra; he put his life on the line for Shiro's escape. What was worse, was that Shiro still couldn't understand why was he so cut up about someone he could barely remember. What wasn't his mind letting him recall? They had barely any time to speak, and Sendak had hardly revealed anything, except reminded him how he was trapped in the past and still sought approval from his masters. Being around Sendak had been detrimental in hindsight. It was leaving him so sour he was trashing the training robot late at night. The intrusive thoughts were back. He'd thought about showing Allura earlier how the Galra shouldn't be the only ones she should consider hating, imagined running his hand through her chest. He gripped his hair tightly. Even remembering hurt. Black rumbled again in his head. Pleading, grounding.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“It's just a thought, you didn't hurt her, you <em>didn't hurt her</em>. It's intrusive for a reason. It's natural to have them. You're not fucked up, you're not fucked up.” Who was he kidding? He <em>was </em>fucked up. Actively lying about his own mental state, making them believe he was their strong heroic leader. Shiro was no hero; he was a fraudulent, broken man trying to find some merit or meaning to his existence, trying to absolve himself of the murders he committed. He wasn't special, the universe didn't owe him answers, didn't owe him a pleasant life after what he'd done. His near-death experiences was just him cheating it all over again, and his punishment was this.</p><p class="western">“Will I be redeemed if I die, or would I continue to be a disappointment?”</p><p class="western">Black didn't seem to like the idea of him dying, and he supposed for fair reason considering how Zarkon used it. It's what they had in common, strange as it was to identify with an alien, semi-sentient spacecraft.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“If I had been stronger back then, maybe I could have fought harder. Refused to kill in the arena, started a coup. Not dragged Ulaz into this,” he shook his head, “why did they have to die, why did I live? Why did I pretend to enjoy it and lie to myself; become like this?”</p><p class="western">Black didn't know the answers, and Shiro didn't either. He wondered if anyone besides himself would. He didn't have any one to relate to. His body became lead on the mattress, and Shiro just stared at the opposite wall as thoughts and disjointed memories started to consume him once again. He was a joke of a Paladin.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">It took him longer than it should have to realise he was crying.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">-</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">The pair sat silence on the observation deck close to each other.</p><p class="western">“So you come here often?”</p><p class="western">“Yeah, when I can't sleep.” Shiro glanced at him, Keith's eyes staring down at the blade in his hand. “I can't believe you managed to hide that from me for years.” He started slowly, offering a smile down at Keith as he looked up. His lips twitched but that was it.</p><p class="western">“I didn't want you to think anything bad about me, like I was dangerous. Now I might be-”</p><p class="western">“<b>No.” </b>Shiro wasn't having this; Keith didn't deserve this level of shit from anyone. “Don't listen to Allura, or anyone that says you're a murderer or 'evil' because of what's in your blood. You didn't know you were half-Galra, and so what if you are? To me you're still the same Keith who called me an old timer, the same Keith I used to beat in a flat race,” Shiro moved on his knees, taking Keith firmly by the shoulders, “and the same Keith who is one of the most selfless people I know. You took to the role of a Paladin like a duck to water, like you were born for it, you even,” Shiro squeezed his shoulders a little harder, recalling their conversation about when he was gone, “were able to fly the Black Lion when I was in trouble. You have the qualities, Keith. You're not like Zarkon, not like Sendak, or the witch. Trust me.” With those bright purple eyes, Keith really looked at him, he held his full attention. From what Kolivan had mentioned about the suit, how Keith had so <em>desperately </em>wanted to see him, Shiro wondered how much sway he actually had over him. It was power he didn't want.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“I don't want you to think I'm capable of being like them. I <em>hate </em>I'm linked to yours, Allura's and Coran's pain,” Keith brought his hands up around Shiro's wrists, “what if something sets me off, and I attack you all?” He looked as scared as Shiro felt when his intrusive thoughts got so bad. Without thinking, Shiro grabbed him so tightly and pulled him in close, stopping himself from pushing a hand into his hair.</p><p class="western">“If you <em>ever </em>feel like you're having terrible thoughts, please come to me, because trust me, Keith,” he really couldn't look at him, “I have plenty.”</p><p class="western">He felt hands grip his shirt tightly, heard the gasp against his ear.</p><p class="western">“Why didn't you tell me?”</p><p class="western">“What's there to say except it's linked to the arena.” Shiro felt the grip grow tighter. He was regretting this but he needed Keith to feel like he wasn't alone. Maybe he was being selfish; didn't want to feel so alone himself.</p><p class="western">“Do you think we can help each other?” Keith whispered.</p><p class="western">“I want to say yes.”</p><p class="western">“So why don't you?”</p><p class="western">“Because,” Shiro swallowed, “I don't want to make promises I can't keep. You mean too much to me. We should-” he tried to detach himself, but Keith gripped tighter, arms shifting to keep him locked in. Not tight enough to constrict, but enough to say 'stay'.</p><p class="western">“I don't want to feel alone right now.” Keith's hair tickled against his skin as he pushed himself into the crook of his neck, fingers absently tensing and relaxing.</p><p class="western">“Then I'll stay by your side until you want to be alone.”</p><p class="western">“Thank you, Shiro.” Keith's voice was barely audible until he spoke again. “And thank you for defending me against the others and Blades earlier. It...meant a lot.”</p><p class="western">“Well you've been protecting and saving me. I think it's time I done the same.”</p><p class="western">“You've done enough for me, don't think you need to do any more.” Keith shifted, not breaking the embrace as he moved to look up at Shiro. “You're the right person to lead Voltron, and a much better Paladin then Zarkon ever was. We'll get your bayard, destroy the Empire, and if you'll let me, we can start looking for answers for you. I got some closure, but you deserve some too.”</p><p class="western">For a long moment, Shiro wasn't sure what to say. He wanted to <em>do </em>something but he wasn't...he shouldn't.</p><p class="western">“Thank you.” He rested his forehead for a second against Keith's; eyes locked and probing as if they knew what they were looking for.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">-</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“All clean.” Shiro wiped his brow, taking stock of the immaculate cockpit. It was the final 'room' on his list of places to clean on Black. Tidy ship, tidy mind, or so they said. Things had been getting better. He was starting to anticipate his triggers, more memories had come back, and Kolivan had been sharp enough to pick up on it during meetings, which Shiro both loathed and appreciated. The team as a whole was running smoother these days, and he was celebrating Zarkon's mental defeat. Black had chosen him as its Paladin; Zarkon couldn't track them by the Black Lion or boot him out ever again. His planning had been going well too, and they were finally getting closer to ending this day by day.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“I think this is the first time since we started flying together I've been this happy. You're right, I think I can admit I feel more confident, more self-assured I'm not a monster or not,” he toyed with the word in his mouth, “worthy. The others have helped me learn I've been too hard on myself, and I can allow myself to feel, even if I have a way to go.”</p><p class="western">Black almost purred at his words.</p><p class="western">“Alright,” he raised his hands, “I'm being sappy, you got me. But really. It feels good saying this out loud. That my empathy and how I care for others isn't a weakness, how I've started to talk, kinda. It's been good, and I think,” he wet his dry lips, running the cloth absently over the panels again, “I might be able to start focusing on fixing my relationships. I hated feeling so distant, but I feel ready. So, thank you, for being for a lack of a better word, my therapy.”</p><p class="western">A warmth spread through his mind as he settled down in the pilots seat. Here he was at peace, or at least, as peaceful as he could be. He knew this would be a fight, but it was okay; he wasn't as alone, and in hindsight, maybe he had been too hard on himself around the guilt during his time as a gladiator. He still had to make up for what he did, but perceptions were changing the more planets they freed at a time.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“I never thought I'd say thank you to a machine, but you're not just that. Thank you, for all your help.” Shiro laughed at the rumble in return. “Fine, I'll sleep in my own room tonight. Rest well too.” He patted the wall with affection as he moved from the cockpit, heart at ease. He was ready to focus all his attention at Zarkon; ready to rid the universe of that tyrant. The Galra Empire <em>would lose</em>.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">-</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">With a gasp and a jerk, Shiro opened his eyes. He whipped his head around on unsteady legs like a newborn animal, moving in circles, arms outstretched to defend himself from something that didn't exist. This place. He knew this place.</p><p class="western">“H-Hello?” His voice echoed, and kept echoing. Panic and terror coursed through his system as he called again for anybody, somebody, <em>Keith</em>.</p><p class="western">There was nothing.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">He sprinted across the ground that reflected the sky above towards the strange black and purple eclipse. They were fighting Zarkon, they were winning, and then that attack. He'd screamed so hard his lungs hurt, his body was in agony like every atom was being torn apart. In anguish he dropped to the floor, slamming his fists into the ground below. He screamed and shrieked, he released everything he'd kept stowed away as the dawning realisation struck him. He'd <em>died</em> in that battle. He was dead.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">There was an ethereal roar that came from everywhere and nowhere. He looked up, mouth agape and cold body colder as the Black Lion seemingly materialised from nothing.</p><p class="western">He wanted to ask why.</p><p class="western">Apparently he didn't have to even speak here, because Black shown him everything, its rumble pained, perhaps.</p><p class="western">Black had grown attached; it had wanted to save him.</p><p class="western">Shiro didn't even know how to process this. He couldn't be dead, he <em>couldn't</em> be.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">-</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">A loss of control.</p><p class="western">He'd never had the time to think, but now he had all the time to reflect as he pleased, and he was slowly working things out.</p><p class="western">It was taken by others after he was diagnosed, and he watched his independence slowly stripped away by those around him. It was why he was so adamant on Kerberos.</p><p class="western">The year as a prisoner? Self-explanatory.</p><p class="western">After that, he wound up in an ancient war that'd spanned almost the length of recorded human history, but certainly not its entirety. He'd sought out anything he could control, and latched onto it with the vain hope it would keep him afloat. He wanted to do good, be a Paladin, so he did everything he was capable of and slowly clawed it back through use of his skills. It had felt good finding meaning and purpose again, realising he wasn't past saving just because of what he'd done.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Shiro had no idea whether he had any influence over Black's decision to choose Keith, but whenever he was in the Lion; Shiro could feel, see and hear <em>everything</em>. On one hand he felt ashamed of himself of forcing him into the position, but on the other he wouldn't deny there was some slight resentment. He had pre-warned Keith in advance, started to involve him and the others more after Allura was taken to Zarkon. Leadership was hard, sure, but no one said it was easy. It was just...presumed Shiro would lead and was capable straight after coming back from a year of torture. He took on the role because he had to, and sure, he understood Keith didn't feel ready, but watching him try and push the forgery into the role at any given opportunity left a bad taste in his mouth. Shiro could empathise, and maybe it was bitterness because he was dead and couldn't do <em>anything</em>, but running off to the Blade of Marmora and letting the team down again and again felt beneath Keith.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Especially after the most recent incident when he could hear the others, through Black's consciousness, screaming and pleading for help when they were under attack. To hear and feel it, and be able to do <em>nothing</em>, was one of the most painful experiences of his life and death. It was debilitating. He had been <em>so</em> angry. The copy had come to Black, pleaded to help them. Said he'd heard it too. Black had opened up and allowed the copy to pilot. He felt both relieved, bitter, but worst of all, disappointed at Keith.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">The copy had surprised him. Perhaps Shiro had been wrong about its intent, but he would never trust it. The others did. He couldn't blame them. So far as they knew it was him. Shiro didn't have to feel or see Keith's emotions in Black any more, but what he now got to do was listen to the copy. He thought he was restarting all over again; and like him, he was proud to be a Paladin. This new version had a chance that he didn't, and this new self seemed a lot more willing to be open with Keith then he ever could have been. In some ways, he hoped he'd dissolve away into the Black Lion's consciousness then watch this play out. He didn't want to be a spirit the next Black Paladin had to overcome like he did to Zarkon, and would rather not fight a copy of himself or Keith.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">He'd observe the copy for now. There wasn't a lot else he could really do here. Shiro supposed this was his hell; no control and having to accept that.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">-</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">It was always hard to judge time here, and to dull the sinking misery, Shiro had decided to deny the existence of time itself. He knew at his core he shouldn't, but if he did consider time, then how long had he been here? He found himself cycling between anger and self-loathing, running through every decision he'd made when alive to work out another scenario where he hadn't of died.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">If he never left for Kerberos he would never of been a prisoner, never have been rescued, never have been found by Keith and the others or went with them to find the Blue Lion. If they'd never found that, they wouldn't of gone to Arus and found Allura. Could he of been happy living on Earth instead? Was there a reality where he never left and slowly degenerated, a reality where he accepted the outcome of his condition, or was this his fate in every reality; doomed to repeat the same mistakes because that was the person he was at his core?</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">What if, what could have been, if only; they buzzed like hornets in his mind, stinging him over and over again until he couldn't stand the self-inflicted penance and would just scream. His lungs and throat never grew hoarse; he never changed but the others did.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Gods, he wanted to reach out to someone, any one. Not even the copy of himself was reachable. The copy that had knowingly or unknowingly stolen his life.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Shiro felt obsolete. His existence added nothing. A burden upon Black to retain his essence or quintessence, whatever it really was any more. He rose, staring out across the nothingness. He put one foot in front of the other, releasing shaking breath after shaking breath. Maybe the clone wasn't all bad; it cared for Keith probably more then he ever could, or perhaps did. The mistake of playing it safe. Maybe, if he walked far enough, he wouldn't need to think of these things any more, or much of anything else. This limbo was hell; just let him have some dignity in his death.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">-</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Trying to reach out to Lance had been the wake-up call he needed. In his grief, Shiro had become lost within a hell-scape of his own design. Miserable and struggling as he may be, he couldn't let himself become buried under the weight of his insecurities. He had to try and help the others in whatever capacity he could. When the universe was safe, then he could let himself go to the void knowing he had done what he could.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">He was dead. You could not revive the dead.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">For the first time in ages, the numbness slipped away. In it's place sat crystal-clear clarity. It was like feeling lighter. He wouldn't call it control, but he felt a little more confident.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">-</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Shiro double-took when he felt and heard Keith in Black. Feeling his desperation, the way he pleaded with the forgery, it was...it was...he tried to focus; tried to zone in on Keith's frantic energy. He had to let him know it wasn't really him, let him know to stop this, let Lotor and the copy go, <em>protect the others</em>. Nothing got through, Keith wasn't or couldn't hear him.</p><p class="western">“Keith! <em>Keith</em>!” He cried, dropping to his knees. He smashed his fist against the ground, eyes wide in his own fear. “Keith <em>don't</em>. Don't do this, don't put yourself on the line for what you think is me.” He let his body crash into the floor, fists clenching and unclenching as all he could hear was Keith's pleas.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“I know you're in there, Shiro! Let me help, we can get through this together!” It was so broken and cracked. Keith...Keith still hadn't given up on him, even if this wasn't the real him. How many times was he going to do this to himself, keep protecting Shiro. It wasn't that he'd even done that much for Keith, in the grand scheme of things. It was like a blind love; and Shiro wasn't sure how he felt knowing what he did, knowing what he'd seen in the cockpit. He knew Keith more intimately then he had ever consented to, yet what did Keith know about him?</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">He wanted to hold him again, wanted to just scream, to question, to apologise, and kiss him. Yet he was here, stuck and unable to tell him how he felt. He clutched at his chest, pushing himself up.</p><p class="western">“I...I don't want to be here. I want to go back,” he licked his lips unconsciously, “I-I want to be alive, for him.”</p><p class="western">He wished he was capable of crying.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">-</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">The happiness he felt awakening not once, but twice, in Keith's company had dissipated so shamefully quickly. Every advancement he thought he'd made seemed to unravel at the seams, and those monsters crawled out from their dark corners to bite and tear at his mind that was fractured once again. The process to merge him with the clone body had been a success; but the cost was becoming accustomed to a body that should by all accounts work for him, but didn't. He should be counting his blessings, not drowning in his despair. There was the conflict of memories and the merging of personalities, feelings were a minefield to navigate, but the biggest monsters to rear their ugly head was that of guilt and uselessness.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">The scar on Keith's cheek was a reminder that made Shiro's blood run cold, and the sinking feeling when all he could do was watch the others fight and risk themselves, while all he did was stand there with one hand. He was a husk of himself, fighting for relevance and purpose in a universe that didn't need him any more. He added little to the team at this point, and as he would listen to their jovial chattering over the comms or as they all laughed and teased each other, he would sit there in silence. At times it felt like he still didn't exist, or maybe they didn't trust him. He'd almost tried to kill them all in one way or another; well, the clone when it was possessed. Shiro felt guilty over that too; now he felt like he'd put a damper on the progress Keith and his relationship had made while he was dead because he couldn't articulate what he wanted to say that wasn't just: “sorry for hurting you”. Did he even have a right to his affections? Was it really his to monopolise on?</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Shiro didn't know, and that was why he'd move deeper into Black some days. There was a nook he felt safe pushing himself into, pathetic as it made him feel, but it was comforting. It was like what he remembered doing in his old cell during imprisonment; some primal feeling of safety and security.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">What was maybe worse in all this was how Keith was still being kind, being there for him. Kind, selfless Keith. He'd changed, matured, and it warmed his core when he heard the joy in his voice when he'd listen to Krolia and him talk, how he so fondly cared for the recently named Kosmo. Keith deserved the happiness in his life, and Shiro had tried to focus on that, push his own issues to the side and hide them. It wasn't working like it used to. Nothing was like it used to be.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">He had moments, brief ones, where he wished he'd never been brought back. It was inherently selfish, he knew, and he also knew that he was happy to <em>be back</em>.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">He was in another transition period. Shiro needed to remember that like everything, this would run its course, and eventually he would be free. He pushed himself into the nook, once again struggling with sleep, and closed his eyes.</p><p class="western">“Count your blessings. The clone was under the witch's control, you've been dead for so long, they still cared for you. Try, try and make this time around count. You can do this, you're stronger than this. Keith still cares about you no matter what, they all do. Focus on getting better. Rest.” He whispered to himself, brow furrowed as he wrapped his arm around his waist.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">-</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Do you wanna go?”</p><p class="western">“Huh?” Shiro looked down at the offered controller in Pidge's hand, her bright eyes watching him carefully. “One hand. I'll be-”</p><p class="western">“You can pilot one-handed, this will be easy. Until then,” she came and plonked herself in his lap, pulling his hand, “we'll work together and kick ass.”</p><p class="western">“Pidge, I-” She gave him a look that said she wouldn't take no for an answer, and she <em>knew </em>he couldn't say no to her either. He sucked in a sharp breath. “Fine, but we're not staying up late again.”</p><p class="western">“We both don't sleep great,” she moved her fingers over the directional buttons, “so maybe this might tire us out. Do you need me to explain what you have to do?”</p><p class="western">“I've watched you play enough, I should be okay.” He brushed his flesh fingers over the buttons, brow creased. “I don't think I'll be any good-”</p><p class="western">“You know, I expect this from Keith's mouth – press A – as opposed to you. I'll try and empathise, because you've been through a lot in a short time, we all have – press it again, then two more times quickly – but we all know its been hell for you. I know you prefer to be the giver of wisdom, but seriously, Shiro, you gotta stop holding it all in there.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">He could feel himself pouting.</p><p class="western">“When did my life get this bad?” He watched her turn to him, eyebrow raised but little smirk on her lips.</p><p class="western">“You guys have always said I was the smartest on the team, right? Well, maybe you should listen to me once in a while. Don't be an arrogant old man, or I'll kick your ass.”</p><p class="western">“Noted,” Shiro pressed the buttons, eyes narrowed in concentration, “but I'm not an old man.”</p><p class="western">“You're twenty-six, I'm sixteen. You're old.”</p><p class="western">“It's ten years!”</p><p class="western">“Yeah, actually ancient. Seriously though,” she turned her attention back to the screen, “being depressed sucks, doesn't it?”</p><p class="western">“I'm not-”</p><p class="western">“You are and it's painful to watch. You're an absolute hypocrite when it comes to taking your own advice, you know?” She leaned back against his chest, eyes flicking up at him briefly. “It's all well and good being there for all of us, and we're all so grateful for it you have no idea, but you gotta take your own advice. Talk about things, don't be scared to open up and own who you are. You told me a long time ago something about accepting and owning myself made me...stronger or something. I don't remember the particulars, but it resonated in me enough. Point is, we're all hear to look after you like you did us. Our zombie friend needs love too.”</p><p class="western">“I'm not a zombie!”</p><p class="western">“Debatable, with how your face looks some times.”</p><p class="western">“You...really don't mince your words, do you?”</p><p class="western">“Well, being around Lance and growing up with my mom, you have to be direct. I prefer it honestly, because I care about you. We all do.” She sighed, rubbing her hand over his wrist. “I'll probably get a telling off for coming in sharp, but seriously, Shiro, you're not a burden or a waste of space or anything like that. What's happened happened, you're not the same man who left Earth all those years ago, and you have changed. We all have. Life's been hell, but you got us all behind you, ready to pick you back up when you fall down. Metaphorically, I mean, I could <em>try </em>lifting you but you're pretty big-”</p><p class="western">“I get the point, Pidge.” He left the controller in her lap, clenching and unclenching his hand to the side. He swallowed the thick lump in his throat.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“You're a perfectionist and a workaholic, a bit like me.” Pidge took his hand in his. “So I get what it's like when you have all those expectations of how you should be, and it's not lining up with how you <em>are</em>. You're hurting yourself. Before you say it, because I can sense that annoyance,” she squeezed tighter, “I'm not trying to devalue what you went through. I'm just trying to find some common ground. I, we all, want to do what we can for you this time. Let yourself rest, you earned it.”</p><p class="western">“If I rest, I feel I'm not contributing.”</p><p class="western">“You contributed enough. You've saved all our asses so many times, you carried so much of the burden. We're all soldiers in this war, like it or not, we've all got blood on our hands.”</p><p class="western">“It's just not fair-”</p><p class="western">“I don't care how unfair you think it is to talk to us about your problems. You have them, you need to vent it, and if that means you can through hammering some buttons with me on this game, then so be it.” She planted the controller in his hand. “I'm probably the worst therapist you will ever have, and I'm really not qualified, but the first order of business is you need to relax and have fun. Like, I don't think you've ever <em>had </em>fun in your life-”</p><p class="western">“I've had fun!” He felt his eyebrow twitch.</p><p class="western">“Really? <em>Prove it</em>. Show me how fun you can be.”</p><p class="western">“I-I don't need to prove...” he just let his voice peter out at her arched eyebrow. This wasn't a fight he was going to win, and she <em>knew it</em>. He watched that infectious grin, like some gremlin, spread across her face. “Am I going to regret coming to the Green Lion?”</p><p class="western">“Nope, but my personal mission is making sure you have fun. I won't make you talk, but you can when you want. You need to talk to Keith one day about all this, and I'm not sitting through another who knows how many times with you making gross gooey eyes at each other.” She poked her tongue out, making some retching noise.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">All he could do was pinch the bridge of his nose.</p><p class="western">“It's complicated.”</p><p class="western">“You both <em>make </em>it complicated. He loves you, you love him. It's not rocket science. I'm <em>oblivious to this shit, </em>and still notice it. Lance could probably give you some of his ego and confidence, and you could have my tactless bluntness, but really, it's always been you two running after each other. The clone may've scarred him, but we all know it was Haggar at the end of the day. It wasn't fair, wasn't right. Keith'll forgive you, you know.”</p><p class="western">“It's what I'm scared of. He'll forgive me but hold it against me in an argument. One of the things.” He felt Pidge's eyes on him. “I've had it before. There's a lot I'm scared of.”</p><p class="western">“Don't think, just do. Do emotions at him.”</p><p class="western">“Do emotions?” Shiro chuckled, eyebrows raised. “You don't just <em>do emotions</em>.”</p><p class="western">“Well I dunno, emotions are annoying and I dunno what to do with them, least of all identify half of them.”</p><p class="western">“Well what can you identify?”</p><p class="western">“Anger, hangry, bored, annoyed, frustrated, excited, sad and...uh,” she looked at her fingers, “not sure how to describe it. Like <em>argh</em> when something isn't going your way but it's more than frustration.”</p><p class="western">“That's still frustration, and hangry is still anger.”</p><p class="western">“No, they're separate.” She folded her arms across her chest, pout matching his own. “Ok, you want something to do? Your rent for staying here is teaching me the difference between emotions and feelings because,” she shrugged, “I never thought it necessary to learn.”</p><p class="western">“You drive a hard bargain, but,” he snorted, drawing her in for a hug, “I think I can try.”</p><p class="western">“If I'm too much, let me know.” Pidge pushed herself away.</p><p class="western">“Same to you.” Shiro nodded, ruffling her hair with another small laugh.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">-</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“You were telling the truth,” Shiro brushed his thumb over Adam's name, “but I never thought it would be like this. I wanted to apologise. We shouldn't of left it on such a sour note.” Shiro stared at the image; Adam's face would be what you found in the dictionary under 'serious'. Shiro used to tease him about that. “I wonder how much would of changed and what would of stayed the same. I just...I'm angry at Sanda for throwing your life away. She's not listening still and I...I <em>understand </em>her rationale, but I can't agree with her position. The guy you fought against,” Shiro shook his head, “you had no chance in hell against. I'm going to swear to you, and the others the Galra killed, I'll take him and them down for good.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Shiro?”</p><p class="western">He whipped his head around to find Keith, stood at the threshold.</p><p class="western">“I'm sorry, you're bus-”</p><p class="western">“No,” Shiro motioned him over, “I'm just,” he licked his lips, “catching up, I guess.” His ears pricked as Keith crossed the distance to his side.</p><p class="western">“I'll give you-”</p><p class="western">“No. I...think I need some company.” He placed his hand on Keith's shoulder, just like old times. “I think left by myself I might spiral. I know that I can't carry the weight of Sanda's decisions, I can't feel guilty if she didn't even listen to Sam.”</p><p class="western">“You can't save and protect everyone.”</p><p class="western">“Unless I'm you.” Shiro glanced down at him, realising it perhaps sounded more pointed then intended.</p><p class="western">“No, I've messed up too. I've almost got Kolivan, a few other Blades, and myself killed in the past. Some did die.”</p><p class="western">“Did you carry that guilt?”</p><p class="western">“For a while,” Keith turned towards him, taking his hand in his, “but maybe it's because I'm cold, or because I'm half Galra, or just because it's who I am; I realised that they made that decision and I can't stop other people. You're different.”</p><p class="western">“It's because you rationalise it differently, not because you're cold or with what's in your blood. What...makes me different?” Shiro let him keep his hand, turning back towards the memorial.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“You're the first person I've felt anything intense for. I meant what I said when that fight happened. I don't think this is the right place-” Shiro held his hand tighter when Keith tried to pull away.</p><p class="western">“I'm the one who runs,” he murmured, “you don't. You're strong and capable and just, I wouldn't be here without you. I owe you my life.”</p><p class="western">“You don't owe me anything, Shiro.”</p><p class="western">“I remember what I said in the Black Lion.” He pulled Keith a little closer, his presence there against his side. “I'm better, then what I was back then.”</p><p class="western">“In the head, body, or all of it?”</p><p class="western">“All of it.” Shiro couldn't help the snort that escaped his lips. “She got me into video games. It was more stimulating then watching everything from Black's consciousness. You know that I...saw you, right?” He felt Keith stiffen. “I've seen you so vulnerable, Keith, and all I could do was watch. I wanted to be better for you, but when I came back, all the progress I'd made just came undone. There's things I wanted to say and do, but every time I want to the universe seems to want to stop me and I'm too weak.”</p><p class="western">“You're not weak. You're strong, you're still here, you're <em>trying</em>.” Keith gripped his hand harder. “You wait, you'll be leading something again soon enough. You're Shiro,” Keith brought a hand to his jaw, gaze so intense it set Shiro's insides ablaze, “not even death can keep you down.”</p><p class="western">“Don't jinx me.” Those eyes softened, and for the the first time in a while, Shiro felt alive. The heat, the conversation, the painful longing in his chest to just kiss him there and then.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">-</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Shiro's feet pounded across the ground, heartbeat the only thing in his ears, and Black Lion in his sights. He stumbled over the rocks but nothing mattered. Only Keith.</p><p class="western">“I may not be saving you, but I'm helping you this time!” He shouted, feet skidding down the side of the crater Black had made on impact. He hissed, feeling his ankle twist. That could be fixed. He dragged himself into Black's maw, brows creased in worry. Keith better not be dead; he'd not forgive himself after everything Keith had done for him.</p><p class="western">“Keith!” He saw the hand hung limply to the side. Shiro's blood ran cold as he scrabbled around in front, tearing away the straps. Between desperate pants, he brought Keith close to his body, fingers at his neck to feel for a pulse.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“You're alive. Thank <em>fuck</em> you're alive.” He pulled the cracked helmet away, feeling his eyes prickle. “You complain at me being reckless,” he smoothed away the black strands, dusting away the dirt and grime, “but you all go and do that. Almost die on all of us. Don't you dare. Not again. Let me try and protect you this time.” He saw the droplets fall against Keith's cheek; he was totally out. Carefully, Shiro leaned down, chest constricted and the impending lump getting hotter and thicker, ready to choke him. He pressed his lips softly against Keith's forehead.</p><p class="western">“Thank you for everything,” he whispered against the skin, “but now it's your turn to rest. Let me carry you, like you've carried me since I fell back to Earth.” He repositioned Keith, holding his body close. He let the tears roll free; he didn't care what anyone thought. He was going to stay with him, wasn't going to make the same mistakes again. He clutched his body tighter, and with a groan picked his way from the Black Lion's cockpit.</p><p class="western">“Thanks for keeping him safe.” Shiro called out. “I owe you one.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>About to start editing the final chapter, and THERE BE PORN.</p><p>Thanks for reading so far, just one to go!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Count Your Blessings, Not Your Faults</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>/slams down final chapter.</p><p>The final culmination that would start at where s8 would, and then a fucking time skip because this fic got REALLY long really quickly.</p><p>Also the porn.</p><p>I do hope you enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="western">The jacket came down on his desk with a dull thud. Shiro glanced up to find Keith leant against the door frame.</p><p class="western">“They didn't give you a bigger office?”</p><p class="western">“I wanted my old one back.” Shiro offered a half smile, glancing around the cramped room. “Besides, I'm going to be stationed on the Atlas for the most part.” He raised the data pad and used it to gesture to the several files sat on his desk. “So much bureaucratic shit.”</p><p class="western">“Are you avoiding what day it is on purpose?” Keith raised an eyebrow as he wandered over, pulling the data pad from Shiro's hand and setting it aside. Shiro glanced at the jacket, then at Keith's moderately casual dress, then himself.</p><p class="western">“I'm at a loss as to what day it is.”</p><p class="western">“Your birthday.” Keith sighed, brushing the white strands of hair from his face. “You're a nightmare when you work like this.”</p><p class="western">“I'm just getting things prepared before launch, and I honestly didn't realise.” The last birthday he remembered celebrating was his twenty-fourth, which if anything was a simple and quiet affair. Between the Atlas, the others, the work, and putting some thoughts to paper after a talk with Matt and Sam, today just felt like any other day.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Take the day off. I got something lined up. I think you'll like it.” Keith motioned towards the door. Shiro needed to take time to himself, and he was going to make sure they enjoyed this small reprieve as much as possible. His visits during the stint in hospital had lifted Keith's spirits when they'd sit talking about anything and everything. Shiro seemed happier – he had a different energy about him – even if he was buried under a small mountain of paperwork.</p><p class="western">“What is it you think I'll like?” Shiro leaned on his human arm, head tilted to the side.</p><p class="western">“I don't know if you remember, but someone wanted to race in the skies-”</p><p class="western">“-we don't have the craft to do that-”</p><p class="western">“-and I know, but maybe we can race again like old times on the hover bikes? You always used to love the wind in your hair, pulling all your fancy moves. Well, I think it's a bit more even now.”</p><p class="western">“Wasn't that if you graduated?” Shiro raised an eyebrow. It seemed he did remember.</p><p class="western">“Yeah, but I think it's fair to say I've probably graduated considering what we've done.” Shiro's soft laughter was like music as he conceded in defeat.</p><p class="western">“You have a point. Do you mind if I stop back at my room first? There's something I need to get before we go, and I should probably change.”</p><p class="western">“You're actually skipping on work?” This...was easier then expected.</p><p class="western">“Well, I was told by a smart young woman that it was hypocritical if I never took my own advice. I think she was pretty right.”</p><p class="western">“Are you going to tell her?” Keith knew <em>exactly </em>who this referred to, and he couldn't help the smile that formed on his lips as Shiro gave an approving nod at the jacket. It was as close as he could find to his old one.</p><p class="western">“I think if I do, it might go to her head.”</p><p class="western">“We've already got enough big egos on the team.”</p><p class="western">“I think the biggest one's in the room with me.” Shiro caught the playful punch in his prosthetic, their eyes meeting for a few long moments. “I'm joking.”</p><p class="western">“Don't quit your day-job.” Keith let Shiro pass, noting how he nursed the jacket close to his chest. He felt something warm fill his core, he felt things were finally picking back up.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">-</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">The desert was their playground. Engines roared and sand billowed out in their wake as they streaked across the desert at break-neck speeds. Keith's victory was assured; because he'd already won as he watched Shiro drop from the cliff-side with a cackle of delight. The adrenaline was surging through his veins; <em>he was having fun</em>. Keith smirked, leaning forwards as he took the leap of faith himself.</p><p class="western">“You can fly better then this!” Shiro shouted up at him, giddy look upon his face.</p><p class="western">“I can, but maybe I'm letting you think you've won, old-timer!” Shiro's bag was still strapped tightly against his body, and Keith wondered what exactly he'd brought with him.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Shiro landed first and tore off. He looked behind him, smirk broadening as Keith came after him, pushing the bike harder and harder. Judging by the terrain, Keith was likely going to try get air on one of the outcroppings instead of just moving past it. Well, let's see if he did. He urged his own bike on harder, trying to make as much distance as he possibly could, weaving between the rocks and cacti that sat in his way. Then he heard it; the shift. He craned his neck back, watching as Keith caught air.</p><p class="western">“Fuck!” He took a hard left so their bikes didn't clip each other, watching as Keith took the landing. Their eyes locked. That smirk!</p><p class="western">“Oh, it's on, <em>cadet</em>!”</p><p class="western">“Are those fighting words?” Keith offered a cocky wave as he sped off. Shiro loved it; he felt...alive. Really alive as he watched the black mess of hair in the wind. Even more when he felt the tightness in his chest. He wanted to chase Keith; chase and catch him and never let him go again.</p><p class="western">“I love you, you cocky shit.” He murmured to himself as he floored it, sand kicking up behind him as he rejoined the race, pushing the bike with calculated gear shifts and terrain abuse. Soon enough, the gap closed, and they rode alongside each other. Cocky grins were exchanged, and they turned their heads back towards what lay in front, the sun slowly sinking.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">-</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“I'm surprised this even survived the race!” Keith settled on the porch with Shiro, proffering his glass out. Shiro poured the whiskey with care, then himself one too.</p><p class="western">“I'm not that bad a pilot you know.”</p><p class="western">“I know, but still. You never cease to amaze me.”</p><p class="western">Shiro snorted as he brought the glass to his lips, grey eyes catching the light as he stared out over the desert; sky painted purples, pinks, and reds.</p><p class="western">“Every day you continue to amaze me. No joke.” Shiro placed his hand tentatively over Keith's. Keith spread his fingers, and let flesh ones curl over his hand. “I think now's the right time. I can't keep putting this off any more.”</p><p class="western">“What do you mean?” Keith's brows knit together at the shift in tone. Shiro looked at him seriously. He thought this was going well. Why was he so serious right now? His heart froze in an instant, worries flooded his mind and he was drowning.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“S-Shiro?”</p><p class="western">“It's not bad, I promise. It's just really overdue.” He placed the whiskey down and squeezed Keith's hand tighter while the prosthetic rooted around the bag, before withdrawing with a small notebook. “Whenever I can't sleep, I note down all the mistakes I made in the past. Everything I left unsaid or never explained fully, things that I remember, fears,” he watched Shiro bite his lip, but that resolve was there, coming back to the surface, “it's been cathartic. I'm not better or fixed, but I feel comfortable enough to let someone in. That someone should be you. Here.” He placed the book in Keith's lap and picked back up the whiskey. “I want you to read it. Now, later, whenever you want to-”</p><p class="western">“I'll read it now.” Keith opened it with a slow, shaking breath, not certain what he'd find inside. “You know I won't-”</p><p class="western">“Judge? Yeah, I know you won't. I trust you, Keith.” He shuffled closer, bringing an arm around Keith's shoulders. “This is my interior. All my messy thoughts; good, bad, weird, I guess, are there. Some I streaked out in pen, some rewritten.”</p><p class="western">“What do you mean by interior?”</p><p class="western">Shiro tapped his forehead three times, and Keith didn't need to ask any more questions. His eyes flicked down to the paper, following the curves of Shiro's neat handwriting.</p><p class="western">“I'll get us a fire going. But ask away. It's...not as long as you might expect.” Shiro rose, stretching out his back. Keith watched his hips move as he walked, letting his gaze fall lower. He dragged them back to the notebook, fingers digging into the material tightly.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">-</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“You found all your memories then?” Keith set the book down, rubbing his eyes with a small groan.</p><p class="western">“Some are still hazy, even with what the clone knew. I remembered more about Ulaz, which is better then Sendak or the witch.” Shiro pulled the blanket around them both, eyes lingering on Keith's jawline. He smoothed the hair back behind his ear, their eyes catching. A light blush covered Keith's pale cheeks, before his gaze flicked to the fire.</p><p class="western">“That's good. We'll have to light a candle for him again, and Thace.”</p><p class="western">“Yeah. We said we'd honour them.” Shiro brought the glass to his lips, knocking it back with practised ease. “But because of everything in the arena, everything they did, I was scared of getting close sometimes. It's why I chose to train alone, on the off-chance I did something terrible. It was terrifying, knowing what I was - am - capable of.”</p><p class="western">“You told me to tell you about intrusive thoughts a long time ago, but you never told me yours until this. I can't believe some of the details, I'll admit.” Keith paused. “You never acted on them, and the fact you didn't speaks more for your character then anything ever could.”</p><p class="western">“I guess that's true. It took a lot of time to <em>get </em>that it was my head coping, even if it sounds like I'm being too critical. I think I clung to my memories so much I started to live in the past. I got so caught up in this cycle of being alone, that I guess I was operating on self-preservation still and just hadn't realised.” Shiro watched Keith carefully, his eyes glossed over like he was ruminating. “Did you ever live in the past with yours?”</p><p class="western">Keith shook his head.</p><p class="western">“Other things I did, when I went off the rails after the Garrison said you were all dead. I spent,” Keith didn't look at him as he spoke, “I spent a long time here and the city making stupid mistake after stupid mistake. I stole again, got myself caught up with a small-time gang at one point, but was just so single-minded in my hunt for you or any clues. After a while, I guess the quintessence from the Blue Lion drew me out there. When you disappeared, I fell back into that mindset again as well, just the others kept me from doing anything stupid. I have moments, like when I wanted you to try pilot Black again,” at this he did look back to Shiro, “partly because I didn't want to be responsible any more, also because you just loved being a Paladin. I don't understand how the connection cut, I guess I would have thought it would only be stronger.”</p><p class="western">He felt a sharp twinge of pain shoot through his chest.</p><p class="western">“I don't think I'll know for certain, but I came to terms with not piloting Black again a long time ago.” He traced a hand over Keith's arm. “You're an excellent leader. You've come a long way, and I'm proud of you.”</p><p class="western">“Thanks, but I'm...doing my best. You made it look really easy,” Keith leaned against him, “but I think I can get there.”</p><p class="western">“I'll help when you need it. You know I'll be here.”</p><p class="western">“Yeah, and you are.” With a wistful sigh, the pair sat in silence listening to the crackle of the fire in front of them.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“I saw you crying more times in the cockpit then I would like to admit.” Shiro's brow creased as he spoke. “I knew you never wanted to be the Black Paladin, and I don't fault you now compared to some brief moments of frustration back then, but I felt guilty that I could have influenced Black and forced you into that situation. I wanted to prepare you all for a worst case scenario after you saved me on that planet, but you had too much happening all at once. I'm sorry, and I'm sorry that I've invaded your privacy and seen you like I have.”</p><p class="western">“Shiro, you couldn't help that.” Keith leaned against his shoulder, taking the flesh hand in his own. “I guess that means you also know the other things that happened to?”</p><p class="western">“A lot makes more sense. I'm proud of the clone for dragging you to the medbay after your attempted suicide run.” Shiro's hand gripped his tighter. “Promise me.”</p><p class="western">“I promise, Shiro, that I'm never going to do that again. Just as long as you promise me something.”</p><p class="western">“What's that?”</p><p class="western">“That you don't try and get yourself killed again. I only have one heart,” he nestled closer, feeling the heat of Shiro's body flush against his own, “and I don't want you to break it again by vanishing from my life forever.” That once swirling maelstrom was a much calmer sea on the surface, but all the deep feelings he let rise and seep into the words.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Keith, don't...gods.” Shiro wrapped his arms around him so tight he hoped it didn't hurt. He pushed his face into the side of his neck, taking in a sharp inhale of sand and the slight sweat from the earlier heat. “I'm not leaving you. I <em>swear</em> I will never leave you again. You've done so much for me and I just...just.” His brow creased and anxieties swirled. “Don't hate me for this. I'm sorry.” He sharply pulled away, catching Keith's face in his prosthetic.</p><p class="western">“Shi-” he pressed his lips against Keith's with a small gasp, and one greeted him in return. He couldn't look at Keith, even if it was chaste. With reluctance and foreboding dread, Shiro pulled back, eyes fluttering open. Keith stared at him, blinking in disbelief. Those amethyst pupils darted to his lips, then back up to his.</p><p class="western">“Keith?”</p><p class="western">Hands grabbed the side of his face, and with a creak and a thud, Keith's lips were against Shiro's. It was hard to breathe; not because of Keith's weight, but because of what this confirmed. Still, Shiro snaked his hand into Keith's hair, parting his lips at the soft caress of Keith's tongue against his bottom lip. He tasted like whiskey.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">-</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Keith stoked the fire before settling back besides Shiro, hands clasped tight together. The breeze didn't feel as cold tonight.</p><p class="western">“I don't want to repeat the past.”</p><p class="western">“You don't know if you're ready?”</p><p class="western">“It'll be a lot,” Shiro gripped tighter, the hint of a waver in his voice, “because I'm still not where I want to be just yet. I don't want to put distance where I shouldn't; make you feel frozen out and worry.”</p><p class="western">“It's more of a worry when you don't talk, but I know that's hard for you,” Keith brought their hands to his lips, “you're wrapped up in all that self-doubt again. Trust me, I know that well enough.”</p><p class="western">“You do.” Shiro paused for a moment. “You know it's always going to linger in the background, we're both going to cycle.”</p><p class="western">“Yeah. I remember feeling <em>wrong</em> when I had a good day, and then it'd set me off again. Like I had to just ruin my good mood because it wasn't deserved.”</p><p class="western">“When I was away?”</p><p class="western">Keith nodded, brushing his lips against Shiro's skin.</p><p class="western">“I'm scared of applying too much pressure to this. I've never wanted to damage this relationship. You know, it took me ages to work out what you meant to me.”</p><p class="western">“That's been one of my biggest worries too. How should I see you, should I? Do...you want to know one of my biggest shames?”</p><p class="western">Keith arched an eyebrow.</p><p class="western">“I don't think you can surprise me.”</p><p class="western">Shiro snorted, resting his head against Keith's shoulder.</p><p class="western">“Before I left for Kerberos, I don't know if you remember, but I wanted to hang out with you when I came back. Since I wouldn't be your mentor, I was going to...<em>wanted to</em> see where it could go. Every time I made progress after, I wanted to have the courage to come to you properly, but the universe kept cock-blocking it, I guess.”</p><p class="western">“Do you want me to fight the universe?” Keith smiled at the laugh that erupted from Shiro's lips.</p><p class="western">“I would rather you didn't; not without me at your side. You took down Sendak, I think you should give me this one.” They laughed; warm, musical, private.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Jokes aside,” Shiro looked up at the sky, just like he used to, “I don't want you to feel like my carer or burn you out. That's what I mean about repeating the past. I don't want to lead you on either, but then I guess I'd be leading myself on too.”</p><p class="western">“I think with the war and all the changes,” he could hear the hesitance, the pain, “maybe we should hold off on diving straight in. I want to, desperately I'll admit, but neither of us want to damage this, right?”</p><p class="western">“Exactly. The dynamic is going to be different too; you'll need to consider Voltron, I now have the crew of the Atlas and still don't know what it can do properly. I don't even know what this connection is, expect similar to the Lion's,” Shiro shook his head, “we may butt heads in meetings. I can't dive in like I used to and need to step back from front line fighting like we did with the Galra. I'd rather not be strained by our roles and have that effect our relationship.”</p><p class="western">“Yeah, but...that doesn't make sense, about not diving in. You're formidable in one-on-one! I should know.” Keith frowned. “Is this your decision?”</p><p class="western">Shiro shook his head.</p><p class="western">“What remains of Earth's governments have issued it as a direct order,” even he could hear the anger in his voice, “since the Atlas belongs to Earth and I'm the only one who can transform it. At least you don't need to worry about me running into battle.”</p><p class="western">“Is this because you flew through an active battlefield to mess with Sendak's ship?”</p><p class="western">“Mhmm.” He exhaled sharply. “Then again, I'm sure I can find a work around in some places. I won't let any of you come to harm, but it just means some of my decisions <em>may </em>conflict with what I would usually agree to.”</p><p class="western">“Thanks for the pre-warning.” Keith pressed his lips against Shiro's hand, holding his lips there for a few long moments.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“There's something I want to ask you.”</p><p class="western">Keith glanced up as Shiro knocked back another glass of whiskey, eyes tensing for a moment. Keith allowed Shiro to pull him up, and walk him to a small sand dune.</p><p class="western">“Once this war is over and done, you and me, we're taking a break.” Keith watched him point upwards, eyes oddly focused. “I don't know where, but I want space to mean something again, and if you want, I'd like you by my side.”</p><p class="western">“I'd follow you across the galaxy.”</p><p class="western">“You've <em>crossed </em>galaxies for me.”</p><p class="western">“We both have, in one way or another.” Keith pulled Shiro down by his neck, brushing their lips together. “We'll take it as it comes, but can we still be close?” He just didn't want to drift. “I'm worried, maybe for nothing.”</p><p class="western">“I won't let us drift apart. You're welcome to my quarters, I'll spar with you if you want the company. Need to stay sharp if I need to save your ass. I guess, if you're okay with it, seeing each other? No labels, not until we're through this.”</p><p class="western">“I...” Keith knew this was for the best, at least now, “I can live with that. If it means we can have this still. Patience yields focus, right?”</p><p class="western">Their laughter echoed in Keith's ears. He slipped uncertain arms around Shiro's waist, pressing his face against his chest. Shiro mirrored the action, chin resting atop Keith's head.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“I think this is one of my favourite birthdays.” He murmured into Keith's hair.</p><p class="western">“Not the best?”</p><p class="western">“No, the best was my tenth because my parents took me to the space museum, and that fuelled my passion to join the Garrison. This is my second-favourite.” He could feel lips press down, Shiro gently swaying them from side to side. “Thank you, for being my support even when I never asked. Thank you for never pushing, demanding. I don't know what I did to deserve you.”</p><p class="western">“I could say the same. I don't know where I'd be if you never found me,” he traced his hands along Shiro's spine, letting his eyes flicker closed, “and you've supported me too, even though you may not realise it.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">To the sound of the crackling embers, the two held each under the night sky. Their own private moment away from prying eyes to just be, to talk. There was still more, there would always be more, but Shiro hoped as he closed his eyes with a shuddered breath, they'd have the rest of their lives together to get through it all.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">-</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Allura had always held a radiance about her, but today especially, she looked more beautiful then ever in her dress, carrying a huge bouquet of juniberry flowers. Her arm was linked with Coran's, who looked ready to burst into tears at any given moment, as he walked her towards Lance, stood waiting with Hunk at his side. To his left, Shiro felt Keith press against him, lips ghosting his ear.</p><p class="western">“I think Lance is broken.”</p><p class="western">“He's certainly looking hot under the collar.” Shiro brought his hand around Keith's waist, fingers caressing the fabric of his Blades uniform slowly. From the corner of his eye, he could see Pidge sat her family, the other Alteans, and members of the Coalition. It was a good turnout for the wedding.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">The Altean raised their arm, and motioned with a sweeping motion for the crowds to sit. They did. Shiro looked to Keith, hair in a small braid around his neck just like Kolivan held his own. He smiled softly, slipping their fingers together. Keith squeezed, an unsaid <em>'I love you too'</em>. He'd been put off marriage a long time ago, and maybe it was just a heat of the moment thing, but watching Allura and Lance gaze at each other like lovesick puppies made him wonder what Keith would look like. They'd been officially together now for four months, two weeks, and six days. He wasn't counting, naturally. They still hadn't had their holiday yet. He glanced up at the looming monument of Voltron, offering a wistful smile. It was missed, dearly, but to save everything it was worth the cost. They'd get their break soon. Just him, and Keith, and maybe Kosmo too.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">-</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Hands slipped around Keith's waist while lips brushed the column of his neck down to his shoulder. He couldn't help but shiver from the gentle breeze that tickled his sensitive skin.</p><p class="western">“You're a thief.”</p><p class="western">“Your shirts are comfortable and smell like you, how am I <em>not </em>going to steal it?”</p><p class="western">“True,” Keith shifted, letting out a small gasp as new metal fingers teased up warm flesh to his nipple, “but I can't steal your clothes.”</p><p class="western">“No, you just steal my wolf instead.” Keith bucked his ass backwards, purposefully grinding against Shiro's boxers. “Is it weird that this feels...weird?”</p><p class="western">“You mean because it's just us, having down-time?”</p><p class="western">“Yeah, I guess. I know I'm slowly taking over from Kolivan, but to not be busy.” Keith paused, hoping Shiro understood what he was trying to say.</p><p class="western">“Are you thinking about it more now you've stopped?”</p><p class="western">“Yeah. Like it's all caught up. You did it too, didn't you?”</p><p class="western">“Yeah, it was a way to cope at first, but I've been doing it so long it's ingrained. We both need this to <em>try </em>and shut off, but if you're not up for travelling, that's okay and we can explore New Daibazaal.” He felt the hand drift away. Keith's fingers gripped the railing tighter; flashes of floating through deep space, oxygen low, lungs aching, suffocating, alone.</p><p class="western">“No, I want to keep things as normal as I can. We'll go,” he twisted round, taking Shiro by the wrists and tugging him forwards until he was trapped between the railing and his boyfriend, “and we're going to make memories; good ones, in the universe we saved.” He caught Shiro's jaw in his hand, brushing his thumb against the stubble. “I think it's what we deserve through all the hell we went through.”</p><p class="western">“I think you might be right.” Shiro pressed his calloused flesh hand over Keith's. He leaned down, and Keith leaned up to meet those comforting lips. At first their kisses felt like they stole all the air from Keith's lungs, but now it felt as if they kept him alive, kept him breathing.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Shiro.” He breathed, pushing his hands into those brilliant white strands. “I want you.”</p><p class="western">Shiro's eyes slowly opened, comforting and warm even in the cool desert night. He offered a lop-sided smile, brushing their noses together.</p><p class="western">“Do you want me to take care of you tonight?” Despite the action, his voice was notably low and husky. Keith nodded, and with a twitch of his lips, Shiro hoisted him up.</p><p class="western">“Do you have to carry me like Allura did Lance?”</p><p class="western">“If it suits your Galra side, we could spar and see where that goes?” A smirk danced on his lips, and Keith <em>knew </em>his face was heating up. “Get that adrenaline pumping in your veins.”</p><p class="western">“The last time it did on the Atlas, we were almost caught because of <em>you</em>.” Keith pouted, recalling how Shiro'd almost had him spilling all over the training mats, prosthetic clamped around his mouth whispering <em>filth</em> in his ear. “It sounds appealing. Blowing off some steam might help.”</p><p class="western">“Good, I guess we should put some clothes on, huh?”</p><p class="western">“I guess we should.”</p><p class="western">“I only just showered,” Shiro let his head tilt to the side, affection in his eyes, “now you want me all sweaty again?”</p><p class="western">Keith arched an eyebrow, feeling his lips twitch.</p><p class="western">“Maybe I like the fact I can make you exert yourself.” He hissed when Shiro dropped him to the bed with a low chuckle.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">-</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">No one should have been there that late. With a heartiness that was strange for both of them, Shiro's laughter petered out into sharp pants as he rested against the wall, eyeing Keith with all the love in the universe.</p><p class="western">“Almost...again!” Keith wheezed, swiping the corner of his eye.</p><p class="western">“You...were too,” Shiro pushed a hand through his dishevelled hair as he panted, “noisy.”</p><p class="western">“Shut <em>up</em> you teasing bastard.”</p><p class="western">“Don't be a sore loser,” he peered around the corner, then motioned Keith to follow as they hastily retreated back to their room, “I'm not done with you yet.”</p><p class="western">“I want more then foreplay.”</p><p class="western">“You'll get more then foreplay.” Their eyes locked, the confidence in Shiro's eyes all the more arousing because Keith <em>knew</em>.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">-</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Keith almost choked around Shiro's cock when metal fingers finally pushed inside him. Not as thick as the previous prosthetic and made out of a better material from New Altea, they still fed the fire of anticipation in his gut.</p><p class="western">“Don't choke.” Shiro all but purred.</p><p class="western">As if to spite those words, Keith squeezed Shiro's cock harder and forced himself down until white hairs were flush against his chin. Those fingers stilled and Shiro's thighs shivered as he cursed, trying to restrain himself <em>poorly</em> from bucking upwards. In triumph, Keith hummed, pressing his teeth against the skin. Shiro groaned behind him, flesh hand squeezing his ass cheek. The fingers twisted and curled inside, every nerve sparking to life. Keith went down on him, coating his cock in a thick layer of saliva that seeped from the corners of his mouth. He knew he was pushing all the right buttons between all the rough growls, the fingers that fucked him deeper, and the hand that stroked him so <em>painfully slowly</em> that Keith found himself trying to build up more friction by fucking into Shiro's enclosed hand. His 'punishment' was nails dragging the length of his inner thighs, so sensitive. Shiro's legs jerked apart.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">With a sharp spank and a firm order, Keith rolled to his back, body aching for more. Keith slowly started stroking himself, letting his head fall sideways into the sheets, hair pooled around his head as he held eye contact, Shiro drinking everything in. He wetted his lips; a tell he enjoyed it.</p><p class="western">“S-Shiro.” Keith moaned, lacing the name with as much sultriness as he could. It was quick. Shiro hoisted Keith's rear up, legs pushed against his chest. The strain of the muscles was good, but <em>god</em> when he pushed himself in, Keith saw stars. Hands landed either side of his head; eyes filled with a lust and hunger that made the hairs along his neck stand on end, and all instincts screamed <em>yes</em> to yield to that gaze. Keith bared his neck, giddy at the way his pupils darted from it to his eyes, mouth parted as if to speak.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">He didn't speak, instead buried himself down to the hilt. Shiro's skin was like fire against Keith's. With a self-satisfied groan, Shiro pulled out languorously. With a twitch of his lips, he slammed down to the hilt. Keith cried out as it struck right to his core, every nerve pulsing with pleasure. He wanted to meet Shiro's thrusts, grind their hips together just so he could feel everything, but all he could do was take the gentle withdraw and unrelenting drive back in. Fingers curled into the sheets while toes flexed and his thighs shook. His cock twitched for friction. Keith tried to move a hand between his legs between increasingly wild moans only to be swatted away.</p><p class="western">“Not yet.” He pulled out and rolled Keith to his front. He let Shiro pry his legs apart, felt hands glide up his calves and thighs to soothe the ache that wasn't painful, but sore. It was a trade-off, he supposed, for how Shiro would probably bruise after their sparring earlier. He liked rough training, Keith liked rough sex.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Drawn back from his thoughts as Shiro pushed back in with a long groan, both his hands pressed over Keith's shoulders; Shiro drew out the best and worst noises from the depths of his throat. High yelps and whimpers as skin struck skin. He could feel the sweat bead along his back as Shiro's weight bore down over him. It was suffocating, but in the way he <em>could </em>manage. The hands moved, metal fingers curled into his hair while flesh fingers slipped into his open, drooling mouth. Keith bit, like he always did, when the pace slowed. He could grind his ass against Shiro's abdomen, take him deeper and keep him in place. Every time he did, Shiro would hiss or growl. He leaned down, planting kisses along Keith's spine to the nape of his neck.</p><p class="western">“You ruin me every time when you're like this.” He withdrew the fingers.</p><p class="western">“You love every second of it. <em>I </em>love every second of it.” Keith shivered at the teeth that grazed his neck. “Bite me.”</p><p class="western">Shiro did, letting Keith bite down on his fingers once more. The harder they did, the harder the other would clamp down. Keith knew he'd pierced the flesh first by the taste, and soon after Shiro's teeth broke the surface. Never deep-deep, not like some of Shiro's scars and marks that didn't look like they came from battle. Especially the hand mark across his upper thigh – the wound self-cauterised. He felt Shiro's tongue flick across the surface, then lips press gently down his skin, hips still.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Shiro pulled out again and hoisted Keith's body up into his lap. His back pressed against Shiro's chest. Keith resettled, thighs either side of his, and with calloused hands and sharp pants, angled Shiro back in. He brought his prosthetic, so much easier to use then the previous one now it was all one unit, around Keith's waist and wrapped it around his cock, precome smeared and leaking over the skin. He brought his flesh arm around his chest, holding Keith so, so close. All the exertion had struck at once, and now he wanted his lover to feel everything he had. The roughness was good, but he enjoyed the come down, the emotion attached. Shiro peppered kisses against the sweaty skin, and between the pair, they met each other in deep, slow thrusts. Keith bucked his lips from time to time, and Shiro would grind inside slow as he brought Keith closer and closer. His breathy pants increased, muttering Shiro's name like it was the only word he could say, pleading him for release. Shiro was getting close himself; Keith's insides so warm, tight even after a thorough stretch that the muscle clamped around him like he was never allowed to leave.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“You're perfect.” He found himself whispering, rough and hoarse against Keith's ear. “I've never felt so close to anyone before. No one except you.”</p><p class="western">“S-Shiro-”</p><p class="western">“No. Use my real name. I want to hear you say it.” Shiro ran his tongue across the shell of the ear, moaning as Keith pushed himself down as far as he could go.</p><p class="western">“T-Takashi.” Keith's voice was like velvet and warm honey. There were butterflies in his stomach and a tightness in his chest that Shiro couldn't anticipate. A word in his mother tongue almost slipped from his lips and he paused momentarily. No. That word would be for later, that was special, serious. There was another; maybe, maybe too much, but...but it felt right. There was no word in English to quantify his feelings how he wanted, so this would have to do.</p><p class="western">“<span><em>Aishiteru.</em></span><span>” He could feel the air cool the sweat against his skin, the ache in his chest grew tighter at the weight of what that word carried. He'd said it out loud. He'd actually </span><span><em>said it</em></span><span>. Keith tilted his head around, eyes meeting for a long moment.</span></p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Keith pried himself off and pushed Shiro back into the sheets, he settled over his hips, guiding him back in, and with help, pulled Shiro back up.</p><p class="western">“You didn't need to push me down.”</p><p class="western">“<span>You were overthinking, and I want to look at you.” Keith brought his arms around Shiro's neck, bringing their foreheads together. Shiro slipped his flesh hand around Keith's cock, and just like before, to a steady rhythm, together they worked themselves. Lips met, names muttered into an open mouth, breath stolen in kisses that said more then could be explained. Keith's hands roamed, pushing up into his hair, and Shiro gripped his hip firmly. </span></p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">
  <span>Movements became erratic to a staccato of moans that increased. When Keith tensed and loosened a sharp cry, face crimson and drool escaping the corner of his mouth, Shiro felt the heat streak in ribbons across his stomach. When Keith's insides twitched, </span>
  <span>
    <em>that </em>
  </span>
  <span>set Shiro off with something between a growl and a moan, cracked. Everything was pleasure, comfort, </span>
  <span>
    <em>right</em>
  </span>
  <span>. He kissed Keith like he had never done it in his life, dropping them back into the sheets. He could fall asleep like this. Absently, he brought his hand up to brush away the sweat-soaked strands from Keith's forehead. He was stunning, even in the post-coital and giddy way he had about him.</span>
</p><p class="western">“I love you, Takashi.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">-</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Are you happy with your double-check?” Shiro felt Keith's weight drop down besides him, then the long whine from Kosmo behind. Shiro reached back with his flesh hand, pushing it into the soft fur.</p><p class="western">“Yeah. I've brought more oxygen cannisters too. Just in case.” Keith laid himself across Kosmo, nuzzling into his flank. “Do you think you could fly us to Thaldycon first? I'll pick up after that.”</p><p class="western">“We'll alternate either way. The wormhole relays are a blessing, but there's still so much deep space to fly through.” Shiro placed his hand on Keith's upper thigh, offering a reassuring squeeze.</p><p class="western">“I miss Black. It was so easy to get around back then.”</p><p class="western">“Yeah, it's,” Shiro pursed his lips, memories coming back of his time there, “a shame. They had sentience, like Atlas did. I miss Black too.” He squeezed again, a small snort escaping Keith's throat. He sighed, repositioning himself.</p><p class="western">“Thanks, and sorry I've been like this lately. I want to keep things normal, but just...” his voice trailed away into nothingness, eyes darting to the side. Shiro understood, and Kosmo certainly sensed it too. The two bundled close to Keith, much to his bashful protest.</p><p class="western">“You don't ever need to apologise.” Shiro kissed his cheek. “You've had too many close calls and it's built up. I can't imagine what it was like <em>free-floating </em>like that except for terrifying, but me and Kosmo are here for you, okay?”</p><p class="western">“I know, and the others too. Just take it day by day,” Shiro watched his lips twitch for a moment, “patience yields focus, right?”</p><p class="western">“Even after all this time, you still hold on to that.” He brought Keith's face round, skin a little pale and shadows under his eyes, and it felt like someone had shot through his heart.</p><p class="western">“Of course. You changed my life for the better all those years ago, and though we've both had our share of it all; you've stayed as the one person who's always been there, always believed in me. I know I have to do it for me, but I don't want to accidentally trigger yours again because I sometimes just don't want to <em>think </em>about any of this and ignore it.”</p><p class="western">“Mine's manageable at best, but I can cope a lot better than before.” He let Keith bury himself against his chest. Kosmo whined and pressed himself against Keith's back, offering licks of concern that messed up the black strands. He couldn't help but smile at the groan. “I don't think mine will ever go for good, or it may take much longer. I'll retain bad habits that'll annoy you, and the same goes for you, but I can empathise. We'll work this out together, because that's what we do.”</p><p class="western">“You are kinda bad at talking about stuff still, about you. Promise you'll be honest.” He felt fingers grip his shoulders. Shiro sighed, brushing back his hair.</p><p class="western">“I'll do my best to talk more, but the same goes for you. I know what you're like – I can <em>feel </em>it after sparring.” They shared a small private laugh, before Keith shifted again properly into his lap. They stared across the red sands and sharp outcroppings of rock. New Daibazaal was like a desert.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Do you ever think we can be happy? Really happy? Or do you think this is going to just suffocate our relationship?” Keith's voice was low. Shiro <em>knew </em>that tone. He took his hands, squeezing them tight.</p><p class="western">“We can be, it just means we'll have to put the work in. Good thing I'm a workaholic, huh?”</p><p class="western">“Did you really just...crack a joke?” Keith turned his head back towards him, brows creased before relaxing into acceptance. “You're right, I know. I'm just like this.”</p><p class="western">“We'll take it day by day, but you're loved, supported. If not by me, the others too. We've got the rest of our lives to help each other through the rough patches, but I want to see so many different places and sights with you, go on adventures, make memories. Just be. Yet,” Shiro brought their lips together, awkward as it was, “the rough patches, for me, aren't so bad when I remember you accept and love me faults and all, and the same applies to you.”</p><p class="western">“The same could be said for you too,” Keith pressed his lips against Shiro's, “you're there when I wake up in the morning and when we go to bed at night. Keep me grounded when I think I'm going to spiral. Sometimes it feels like we were made for each other, corny as it sounds.”</p><p class="western">“Well the universe is a strange place, so who can say?” Shiro laughed, easing Keith from his lap. “Maybe we can discover what else is so strange, or find some answers together along the way. C'mon, let's get her up in the air.” Keith took his offered hand, Kosmo stretching with a soft whine as he rose too. “Let's finally get going and enjoy this break.”</p><p class="western">“Yeah,” Keith pushed his hand into Kosmo's fur, “lets.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks for reading!</p><p>To tie up, the ending may seem a tad bittersweet because Keith's PTSD has finally caught up with him after it all, but they're both there for each other through thick and thin. Love can't fix your mental health or your problems, but support can, and they have a loving and supportive relationship. Not everything will work the same with these two in their healing, slow and cycling as it is, but I like to think it's a bit more hopeful.</p><p>Honestly, I loved writing this, and hope you guys enjoyed reading it. It...really makes me happy and my favourite sheith I've written in a long time. I LOVE my angst hahah.</p><p>Happy birthday to the bestest boy in the universe &lt;3333</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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